


Helpless Hart - The Finished Story

by SusieB (NoriandeR2006)



Category: Hart to Hart
Genre: F/M, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 51,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26521042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoriandeR2006/pseuds/SusieB
Summary: A series of events cause a personal crisis unlike any the Harts have ever experienced before.  Will they be able to overcome it, and find those responsible?
Relationships: Jonathan Hart/Jennifer Hart
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Helpless Hart](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/686047) by Sassy. 



> This story is based on another Hart to Hart fanfic that was never finished. I contacted the author, Sassy, but never heard back, and again, I wanted a resolution! Not knowing where she was headed with it, some parts have been revised and built upon, with all due respect to Sassy for laying the foundation. Many thanks go as well to my beta readers, B & D, back in the day! The original can still be read online (see link), and this finished story was posted on another site, the Stefanie Powers Archive, until it was taken down. I'm glad to have found AO3 for its new home! 
> 
> Sassy brought several characters from canon into this story including Jonathan & Jennifer (naturally!!), Deanne, and Stanley Friesen. New characters created by Sassy are: Sidney Cambridge, Cammi Nysedi, Justin Narvel, Dr. Shearer, Madeline and Melissa. I brought in canon characters Bill MacDowell and Herschel Grey. (I love these two and have developed their characters a bit, with no infringement intended.) Gina is a new minor character of mine.
> 
> A note on the timeline: This story takes place at about the time of the Hart movies, or after, so a little later in life, and after Max's passing.

**Helpless Hart – Part One**

_I want to walk with you, on a cloudy day_ _  
_ _In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high_ _  
_ _So won't you try to come_ _  
  
_ _Come away with me and we'll kiss_ _  
_ _On a mountaintop_ _  
_ _Come away with me_ _  
_ _And I'll never stop loving you_ __  
  


_\- Norah Jones, “Come Away With Me”_

*****

The warm air of an early Los Angeles spring washed over the green, grassy field. Bright rays of sun broke through the thin layer of afternoon clouds. The air was thick with the smell of popcorn, hotdogs, and competition. A local high school band sat just off to the side, while the vendors worked their way through the stands. Players in red and blue uniforms roamed the field, mingling and talking until game time. The noise of the crowd began to hush as a man and a woman approached the pitcher’s mound, one in a blue uniform and the other in red. The man had a microphone in his hand and tapped it, testing to see if it was on.

“Excuse me. Excuse me, could I have your attention please,” he said, speaking to the quieting crowd. “Thank you. My name is Jonathan Hart. My wife, Jennifer, and I want to thank you all for joining us at this very special occasion, in celebration of a man who was very dear to us, and to many in our community.”

The crowd cheered, stilling any further words, and Jonathan motioned to Jennifer. With the exception of a few whistles, the crowd quieted again as Jennifer spoke into the microphone. “This new park is more than just a celebration of one man. It’s a celebration of the community he lived in and loved, as we loved him. We’re very pleased to be able to dedicate it in his name. Welcome to the grand opening of the Max Brenner Memorial Park.”

Jonathan gave her a confirming nod and they said together, “Let’s play ball!”

At that the crowd erupted again in cheers, and the other players joined them on the field, trading jokes and challenges.

The couple fell into step together as they made their way to their respective dugouts to get ready for the game.

Jennifer glanced over at Jonathan and saw that mischievous smile she loved.

“Ready to get beat?” he teased.

Jennifer raised an eyebrow, saying, “You sure are full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Any reason I shouldn’t be?”

“Don’t get too big a head, Mr. Hart - I’d hate to have to take you down a few notches.”

“You’re the only one who could,” he conceded, before placing a quick kiss on his wife’s lips and heading towards the blue team dugout.

“And don’t you forget it,” Jennifer replied, as she headed toward her own team .

*****

Eleven innings and several bruised egos later, the Harts and all but a few of the players were sitting in a local bar either toasting a victory or mourning a loss. However, both teams were celebrating the successful opening of the Max Brenner Memorial Park.

Jonathan Hart was sitting at the bar, innocently having a conversation with the bartender, when he felt a light punch land on his arm. 

“Oh hey, Darling. What was that for?!” he asked.

“Ready to get beat, hmmm?” she asked, tossing his own words back at him with a cocky, mischievous grin of her own as she draped a slim arm across his shoulders. The bartender nodded his hello and goodbye to the couple and made his way to some waiting customers.

“I see you’ve come to rub it in,” Jonathan said, glancing at her before taking a sip of his drink.

Jennifer withdrew her arm and took the seat next to her husband.

“Well, maybe a little,” she admitted, smiling more broadly now, her competitive streak showing. After a pause she couldn’t help but go on. “The way your team was struggling to reach first base, let alone second, it’s a miracle you scored any points at all.”

“It isn’t nice to gloat, you know,” he said, a touch of petulance tingeing his voice now, she thought, which only made her smile even more deeply as she picked up his drink and took a sip, then leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“If you like, Darling, to make up for it, when we get home I can give you some pointers on how to get to home plate.”

Jonathan tried, but failed, to keep a straight face as he replied, “I see…that’s mighty generous of you, Darling, but I think it’s only fair to warn you that I’m an extremely slow learner…I may require a lot of, ah, practice.”

Jennifer circled the rim of Jonathan’s glass with her index finger, then looked at him through long lashes and said, “Well, that’s a good thing, Darling, because I’m a _very… slow… teacher_.” The last three words were drawn out in another sultry whisper meant for his ears only.

Jonathan had seen the fire in her eyes, but couldn’t keep his gaze from falling to her lips as she spoke; the way they moved and formed the words was enough to make him dizzy: _very_ , _slow_ , _teacher_. She made it plain hard to breathe. And why was it suddenly so hot in the bar? He forced his eyes to travel back up to his wife’s eyes, making contact again before she turned away with one more parting shot. 

“Don’t drink too much, Jonathan. I’d hate for it to impair your… _studies_.”

That said, she picked up his drink, pushed off the bar and headed towards the table where several other players from her team were gathered. She didn’t need to see him to know that his eyes were following her, and that it wouldn’t be long before they’d be leaving.

Jonathan quickly called the bartender and ordered a tall glass of ice water. And then another…because it was definitely time to go.

Jennifer was sitting with her teammates, most of whom happened to be Hart Industries employees. She was studiously keeping her eyes on her teammates and off her husband. Someone asked if she and Jonathan would like to join the impromptu pool tournament starting in the next room. While tempted, she politely declined; beating her husband at baseball had been enough competitive fun for the day. Then, fully aware of his presence as he came up behind her, she rose, feeling a pleasant thrill of anticipation course through her as his fingers touched the small of her back. Like her husband, Jennifer was more than ready to head home. They circled the bar, saying their goodbyes, and were on their way in minutes.

During the drive home, Jonathan kept glancing over at his wife. Jennifer was sitting with her eyes closed and her head resting back against the top of the seat. As often happened when he had a moment to observe her at his leisure, he couldn’t help but think of how beautiful she was, how she could still drive him wild with nothing more than a few words, even after all these years. Even in her dirty baseball uniform, disheveled, with wind-blown hair and no make-up, she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on. He wondered idly if she had any idea.

“You know, Darling, you really should be watching the road more.” Jennifer spoke without moving or opening her eyes.

“Hmmm?” Jonathan was startled from his musings; she hadn’t moved or spoken in several minutes; he’d thought she was asleep.

Jennifer opened her eyes and turned her head towards him, “And you should probably slow down - it will make it easier to stare.”

“I’m not staring, Darling - that wouldn’t be safe, now would it? I’m just, _looking.”_ Jonathan smiled - she obviously knew perfectly well the effect she had on him. He surmised she also knew that effect left him, quite willingly, like putty in her hands.

“Mhm. I think - ” Jennifer was interrupted by the car phone.

“Don’t answer it.” Jonathan said quickly.

“Why not?”

“Because it’ll be Stanley, or Deanne, or your editor. Whoever it is, or whatever they want will keep us from getting home,” he said seriously.

“Darling, it could be important.”

“No. Whatever it is can wait a few hours.”

Jennifer smiled, “A few hours?”

The ringing stopped, and Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief.

“You see, I told you it could wait. And yes, a few hours. At least,” he said, glancing at her again and smiling.

Jennifer smiled back and was about to respond when the phone began ringing again, forestalling her comment. Their eyes fell to the phone between the two seats.

“It must be important,” she said and, with an apologetic look at her husband, she reached for the phone and answered it.

“Hello?” After a pause she went on. “Oh, hello, Stanley, how are you?” Jennifer asked. Jonathan, still intent on their plans, looked over at her, shaking his head in denial.

“What? Oh, well, yes, he’s right here. We were on our way home from the game.”

Jonathan slowed the car as she spoke, dreading – and knowing – what was coming.

“Of course, if it’s that important, we’ll be right there. Bye, Stanley.”

He shook his head again, this time in defeat.

Jennifer hung up the phone and turned to Jonathan, “Darling.”

He sighed deeply, and audibly, before hooking a U-turn and heading for the office. Some days it just didn’t pay to be the boss. “What’s wrong?”

“Stanley says they’re having some real difficulties acquiring Galaxy Incorporated. Apparently, some big business tycoon out of New York wants them too. And quite badly.”

“Did Stanley happen to say if they want to save them, or are they going in for the kill?”

“The latter, I’m afraid,” she answered.

Jonathan tossed his wife a glance, saying “Well, we can’t have that.”

Jennifer smiled at him, “No, we can’t. Darling, I’m sorry that your lesson will have to wait…but you know what they say about anticipation….”

“Let’s just hope that we won’t have to anticipate too long,” he replied with a wink, sharing in her disappointment but knowing that ultimately, it would be all the sweeter for the delay.

As Jonathan navigated his way to Hart Industries, his thoughts turned to the matter that required his immediate attention. He was even more determined to get Galaxy Incorporated now – it was a good company, and would be a good addition for Hart Industries, and he intended to see that it remained intact. It was going to be a long evening.

*****

Almost three thousand miles away from Hart Industries, Sidney Cambridge, owner and founder of Dominion Enterprises, was reading the latest report of how the acquisition of Galaxy Incorporated was coming along. It was not good news, and this president of a very large, very powerful company was not pleased. In fact, he was livid when he heard that Hart Industries was redoubling their efforts to acquire the company.

Cambridge couldn't understand what motivated Jonathan Hart, or how he could be as successful as he was. He was too nice, it seemed – the man clearly lacked that killer instinct, a characteristic that Cambridge knew he had in spades, and prided himself on; he knew it was the reason Dominion Enterprises was a Fortune 500 company. If done properly, a well-executed kill would reward the hunter with a most handsome profit. But Hart wasn’t the type to acquire a dying company, take it over, and then kill it. Cambridge sneered – Hart would make more money, be even more powerful, if he did. But no – he didn’t seem interested in that, the fool. No, that Boy Scout would want to save and resuscitate the injured prey, make it part of the Hart family. And Cambridge had to admit that Hart was likely to succeed. And that infuriated him.

The dying Galaxy Incorporated would be a fast and easy way for Dominion Enterprises to make a pretty penny. And Sidney Cambridge loved pennies. Pennies, dimes, dollars, marks, francs, yen, pesos or pounds, it didn’t matter. If it was currency, he wanted it. And what Sidney Cambridge wanted, he got. Without fail…or there would be a heavy price to be paid. He’d make sure of that.

*****

Jennifer sat at her husband’s desk at the office much later that night, while Jonathan sat across from her, in the chair usually reserved for visitors. He looked tired; no, tired was an understatement. He looked exhausted. He was reading the latest projections from Stanley, and Jennifer noticed that he kept shifting his shoulders. She rose from the desk, abandoning the large pile of files and folders in front of her. They could wait until tomorrow.

She circled the desk and stood behind her husband, placed her hands on his broad shoulders and began to knead the tight and knotted muscles she’d suspected she’d find there.

Jonathan leaned his head forward slightly, granting her better access. "Thanks, Darling," he said, relief plain in his voice, even as he continued reading while she worked.

Jennifer massaged the tight muscles in his shoulders for several minutes before breaking the silence, saying, “Don’t worry, Darling. No matter how intent Sidney Cambridge is, he’s no match for you.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but we haven’t won yet. We still have a lot to do if we want to secure Galaxy,” he replied.

“Indeed. But I think the rest can wait until tomorrow, don’t you?” She stopped massaging his shoulders long enough to lean down and kiss him, then her fingers moved up his neck, caressing now more than massaging the tense muscles she found there.

Jonathan closed his eyes, relaxing even more fully under her ministrations. “Yeah. And when this is over, we’re going away for a few days. Just you and me and an isolated cabin in the woods somewhere.”

Jennifer slid her arms from his shoulders, encircling his chest with a hug and whispering in his ear. “That sounds wonderful, Darling, and I can’t wait. But in the meantime, let’s get out of here and find some dinner - then, perhaps we can…begin our studies.”

“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day,” he said as he tossed the folder onto his desk and stood. She stepped back and, snagging his hand, said, “Come on.”

Jonathan let his wife lead him out of the office, more than glad to be calling it quits for the day.

It was well after midnight when they left Hart Industries and began making their way home. When they’d received the call from Stanley, Jonathan had known it would be a long night, but he hadn’t imagined it lasting quite this long. Jennifer was dozing again in the passenger seat as Jonathan continued to mull over the day’s events. It had been quickly brought to his attention that the business tycoon who was making a play for the same company as Hart Industries was Sidney Cambridge, of Dominion Enterprises. 

Jonathan knew of Cambridge and Dominion Enterprises; although the two had never gone head to head, he was aware that Sidney Cambridge rarely lost. Cambridge was known to be merciless, harsh, extremely intelligent, and to have liquid nitrogen for blood.

It had taken many hours, many decisions, and many pots of coffee before Jonathan and his board of directors were satisfied with the results. They’d done all they could for one day, and while still uncertain, their prospects for success looked good. All they could do now was wait to see what Sidney Cambridge would do next.

As Jonathan turned the car onto Willow Pond Drive, he shook his head in an effort to clear all thoughts of Cambridge, Dominion, and everything business. Glancing at his lovely wife, his thoughts returned to their postponed lesson, and to the tingle of anticipation he’d felt every time he’d looked at her or caught her eye during the long evening at Hart Industries. He was certain that she’d felt it too. He also knew how tired she was, and he fervently hoped that her catnap on the ride home would be enough to revive her. The thought made him smile, certain as he was that he knew the answer to that, too.

*****

Later that night Jonathan was awakened by the telephone. “Hello?” he said groggily, barely awake.

_*Jonathan Hart?*_ asked a heavy masculine voice.

“Yes?”

_*I have a message from Sidney Cambridge.*_

“Yeah, what is it?” Jonathan asked.

_*Sidney doesn’t appreciate the competition. It would be in your best interest to back off.*_

_-click-_

Jonathan hung up the phone and sank back into bed, wide awake now, and furious. Business was business, and it wasn’t always friendly. But to call him at home in the middle of the night and threaten him infuriated him to no end. He couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy.

Realizing that his fists were clenched, he forced himself to open his hands, to relax. Jennifer chose that moment to roll over and drape herself across him; he felt her long, lithe leg entangle with his, a slender arm now lying on his chest, and then her head worked its way into the crook of his neck. Jonathan could feel her soft breath washing across his chest, and it soothed him. The warmth and comfort of his wife’s body drove the anger and frustration from his mind instantly. 

He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head. Inhaling deeply, he could smell the soft fragrance of her hair. It didn’t take long at all before he was asleep again.

*****

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Hart!” Stanley Friesen was beaming. “I knew you could do it.”

“Thank you, Stanley. Your help was invaluable in securing Galaxy,” Jonathan replied.

“Absolutely, Stanley. We couldn’t have done it without you,” added Jennifer.

Stanley Friesen, Jonathan’s long-term, faithful employee didn’t just blush, he turned a crimson red at Jennifer’s compliment. "I … ah … ah … th-thank you Mrs. Hart, I was happy to do what I could. It was nothing. No! I mean it was _some_ thing, it’s just that I … I …”

“It’s all right Stanley, we understand,” interrupted Jonathan, “and I have just one more favor to ask.”

“No problem, Mr. Hart. Whatever it is, you can count on me. Anything I can to do to help, you just name it. It’s no problem at all. You just say what you need and I - ”

“Stanley,” Jonathan interrupted again, and he saw Jennifer try to smother a smile. He knew all too well that her mere presence had always caused the usually brilliant Stanley to go completely brain dead. “All of the major issues regarding the Galaxy acquisition have been handled. There are only a few minor ones that need to be wrapped up. Jennifer and I have plans that we’d rather not change, and I wanted to know if you could oversee the rest of the deal?”

Jennifer raised an eyebrow at her husband. _Plans? What plans?_ she thought.

“Of course, Mr. Hart. I’m sure that there won’t be any difficulties. You can consider the deal closed. You can put a fork in it, because it’s as good as done. Call th-”

“Thank you, Stanley,” Jonathan interrupted yet again. He knew that if he didn’t, this conversation would last longer then the trip he had planned with his wife. He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and turned to Jennifer, "Shall we, Darling?"

She nodded and started for the door. “Thank you Stanley, I know we can count on you.”

Jonathan followed his wife out of the office and past Deanne, who was working at her desk.

A series of muted thumps and a loud crash came from the office soon after the couple exited. Jennifer just smiled, and Deanne rolled her eyes, while Jonathan just closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Deanne,” he threw over his shoulder as he followed Jennifer to the elevator, “You’re in charge.”

She nodded, wishing them well, and glanced with resignation at the closed door as Mr. and Mrs. Hart disappeared into the elevator.

*****

As soon as the elevator doors were closed, Jonathan said, "I hope you realize that that was all your fault."

"My fault?” she said with a little laugh.

“Mhmm. You have that effect on people, I’ve noticed.” He leaned in toward her with a smile, looking deeply into her eyes and, enjoying the view as he always did, he felt the stress of the past few days falling away.

“Well…” Jennifer said, a bit embarrassed, but as their eyes met, she could focus only on his, so blue and twinkling with amusement. But then, recalling his words to Stanley, she asked, “What plans?”

He favored her with a boyish grin, “I promised you an isolated cabin in the woods, remember?”

Jennifer tilted her head and she thought back, “But Darling, we only talked about that, what? - not even three days ago. Not only is it extremely short notice, but we’ve been so busy. How did you manage to arrange something?”

The elevator came to a stop and they stepped out, “I have my ways,” he said mysteriously.

“So what do you have planned?”

“Like I said, an isolated cabin in the woods.”

“Yes, I know, but I want details,” she said as they exited the building.

Thinking it over, he said, “Well, okay – maybe a couple details, but only because you’ve been so wonderful the past few days. We’re scheduled for take off in about 5 hours, when the two of us will fly to a small airfield where a jeep is waiting for us.”

“And? That’s it? Where’re we headed from there?”

“Un uh,” he replied, shaking his head with a grin. “That’s all there is to tell – a man’s gotta have some secrets, you know.”

“Oh, does he now? Well we’ll have to see about that,” she muttered with mock annoyance - but she was smiling too.

“The one last thing I can confirm: for 96 hours, there will be no interruptions of any kind – no fax machines, no business decisions, no computers, and especially noteworthy, no phones, for miles and miles.”

“That sounds wonderful, Darling, but are you sure you can afford to be away right now?”

“I am very sure. The Galaxy merger is a done deal – Stanley only needs to clean up a few details. So, let’s go home and pack, and have some lunch before heading out to the airport. What do you think?”

“I think if we pack quickly and make it a light lunch, we might be able to start this romantic getaway of yours a little early.”

Jonathan glanced at his wife and said, “Who needs lunch, anyway?” 

Jennifer just glanced at him again out of the corner of her eye. “Who indeed?” she mused.

*****

“You’re fired,” Sidney Cambridge’s voice was a low menacing growl. “And so is everyone else who helped you fail to obtain Galaxy Incorporated. Get your things, and get out.”

The terrified man nodded curtly in acknowledgement and fled the office. He was very aware that saying anything more could mean trouble.

Sidney Cambridge pressed a button on the telephone that rested on the majestic desk, and a few seconds later a burly looking man entered the office.

Cambridge looked at the bear of a man, “Is it taken care of?”

“The man broke into a feral smile, “Yes,” he answered in a deep voice. “The first part anyway.”

“Hart was warned, but opted not to listen. He is either very brave, or very stupid. I don’t care which. I have built a powerful empire that people know to avoid by reputation alone. Mere mention of Dominion Enterprises, and they know instantly that any competition, any resistance, would be futile. Mr. Hart’s little maneuver would seem to compromise that reputation. I cannot allow this defeat to go unanswered. Anyone who might dare to follow his example must understand that they will be destroyed. Not just ruined – no, I seek nothing less than total destruction. I am going to take Hart by both ends of his life, personal and professional, and choke my way to his center until there is nothing left.” Sidney turned to face the other occupant of the room. “You are the only one I trust completely. But I will be taking over the second phase of the plan personally, and with pleasure.”

Nodding in acknowledgement, the other man said, “I’ll let you know when it’s time to initiate the second phase.”

Sidney Cambridge nodded, and the large man exited the office, leaving the very angry business exec alone to finish masterminding the destruction of Hart Industries, and more importantly, Jonathan Hart.

*****

Jonathan was lying on his stomach with his head pillowed on his arms when the phone rang. Cursing silently and eager to get to a place where no phone could find them, he decided to ignore it. He was tangled among twisted bed sheets, courtesy of an afternoon of making love with his beautiful wife. A preview, he thought with a smile, of what was to come over the next four days.

The phone rang again. _If this is Stanley, they’ll never find the body,_ thought Jonathan as he rolled over and reached for the phone.

“Hello?”

_*Jonathan Hart?*_

It was a woman.

“Yes?” he asked.

_*I’m calling from Sidney Cambridge’s office.*_

“Yes,” Jonathan answered in a curt tone. He was no mood to deal with the sore-losing Sidney Cambridge.

_*I am calling to apologize for the telephone call you received regarding the Galaxy Incorporated acquisition. Sidney is very sorry, and would like you to know that the person who made the call is being dealt with accordingly. Sidney would also like to know if there is anything that we can do to make it up to you.*_

Jonathan was surprised but recovered quickly, “That won’t be necessary. The experience was hardly traumatic.”

_*Very well. Once again, please accept my sincerest apologies on behalf of Sidney Cambridge and Dominion Enterprises. Good day, Mr. Hart.*_

He hung up the phone and reclined back against the pillows.

“Who was that?” Jennifer asked as she came from the bathroom, towel-drying her hair. “Stanley’s not having any difficulties, I hope?”

“No, no, everything’s fine. Are you all packed?”

“Yes, I am, and yes, you are, too. Since you fell asleep, I took pity on you and packed your bag,” she said, leaning over to give him a quick kiss. “Don’t you think it’s time to get moving? I, for one, would like to get to that cabin….”

“Okay – and thanks, Darling. You’re a sweetheart.”

As he rose and got ready to leave, his thoughts fell to Hart Industries _,_ and how it seemed to be requiring a lot more of his personal attention lately. He’d always been hands-on, enjoying the work, but he’d also always had trusted executives to head up a variety of projects; a number of them had left recently, and he’d picked up the slack himself, with Stanley’s able assistance. But Stanley was not executive material – his skills were best used behind the scenes; they both knew it and preferred it that way. So Jonathan had been toying with the idea of hiring a new executive, someone who could handle just about any business matter in his absence. Someone as intelligent as Stanley, as efficient and capable as Deanne, but also as cunning in business as himself. He’d prefer someone who had worked his or her way up through the ranks of Hart Industries, but at the moment there wasn’t anyone with the requisite experience who came to mind. The HR office had reportedly received a few impressive résumés from outside the company; maybe it was time to enlarge the Hart family. He decided to think about that when he got back.

The next four days were going to be spent on nothing but Jennifer, and relaxing. And some relaxing with Jennifer, of course. Maybe he’d even catch a fish.

Jennifer’s voice broke through his musings, telling him that he had better get moving if he wanted to make it on time. Jonathan turned his thoughts away from work issues, instead looking forward to their much-needed get-away.

*****

The small twin-engine Beechcraft Baron 58 with its two passengers was right on course and set to land in approximately thirty minutes. Jonathan sat in the pilot’s seat manning the helm, while Jennifer, in the co-pilot seat, took in the scenery and continued to tease her husband.

“The fish did not weigh five pounds, it was barely five inches long!” Jennifer exclaimed.

“I’m telling you, Darling, Max had it weighed on the pier, and it was exactly five pounds,” he answered back.

“Jonathan, that fish was no more than five inches long. If it weighed five pounds, it wouldn’t have been able to swim. It would have sunk to the bottom of the ocean.”

“Okay, so maybe it was four pounds.”

“It looked like you caught someone’s bait,” she continued, smiling broadly now.

“You don’t believe that it weighed four pounds?”

Jennifer shot him a doubtful look, but refrained from commenting this time.

“Alright then,” he said, “I’ll bet you that sometime over the next four days I catch another fish. One so big that…that you’ll be beguiled by my manly prowess.”

Jennifer laughed and reached over to touch Jonathan’s cheek with the back of her fingers, and said, “I already am, you know.”

Jonathan closed his eyes for a moment, then looked into hers, smiling as he took her hand in his own and brought it to his lips before returning to the business of flying the plane.

“You’re incorrigible,” she said softly, laughing again as she withdrew her hand and sat back in her seat.

Jonathan was about to respond but was interrupted by what sounded like an engine stalling.

“What was that?” Jennifer asked, a touch of worry evident in her voice as an alarm on the console in front of them began to beep. 

A quick glance to his left confirmed that it was indeed the sound of an engine stalling. It sputtered, visibly slowing down as they watched, its rotation then coming to a full stop.

Jonathan’s eyes locked briefly onto his wife’s before returning to the many gauges and controls on the panel before him, as he answered her question. “Our left engine just failed. I need you get on the radio and send out a mayday. And make sure that your belt is as secure as it can get.”

Jonathan struggled with his now one-engine plane while reading off their exact coordinates as Jennifer prepared to relay them over the radio. Having flown with him countless times over the years, she understood the drill and worked to find a broadcasting frequency, repeating the mayday message, but was having little or no luck in getting a response.

“Darling, I can’t get the engine back.” 

She looked at him, her fear growing, but she trusted in his abilities. “The radio’s out as well. What do you want me to do?” she asked.

Jonathan paused for a moment, unwilling to think the worst yet. He continued out loud, going over what their options were.

“I can fly the plane on one engine, but it’s not advisable, especially in these mountains – and we’re losing altitude already. The best thing to do is to get the plane down as soon as possible.”

She could see that he was struggling to keep the plane level, to maintain altitude; their one engine was clearly straining to do its work. “Can we make it back to the airport?”

“I don’t think so – too far. Start scanning for somewhere to land – I don’t think there were many airstrips marked on the chart but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one, or at least, a clearing that’s flat enough.”

She swallowed, but nodded and began peering out the window, increasingly aware of the growing lateness of the hour, and of the impending darkness that came with it.

Jonathan knew if they could just find a good place to land, their chances of surviving were good. But as he scanned the nearby horizon, looking for signs of civilization and a good landing site, all he saw was ridge after ridge of mountains, and his thoughts grew grimmer as the minutes ticked by.

“There!” Jennifer exclaimed, “Two o’clock – a small clearing. Will that do?”

“It’ll have to,” he said with determination, banking the plane in that direction and catching sight of it himself.

“Is your belt secure?” he asked her.

Jennifer nodded, “Yes, is yours?”

“Yes - are you ready?” She nodded. As their eyes met, the depth of feeling and understanding that passed between them was even greater, and more profound, because it was unspoken. Her calm presence bolstered him, making him more certain they’d be okay. 

Jennifer found strength in his confident attitude, knowing he had trained for this and was prepared, and believing in his skill and ability to get them safely to the ground. Nonetheless, she steeled herself as Jonathan turned his attention to their only hope of a smooth landing.

“I love you,” she said softly, reaching over and resting her hand on her husband’s leg as he fought hard to keep the plane as level as possible. Jennifer knew enough about flying to see that their angle of descent would take them perilously close to the treetops separating them from the clearing.

The next few minutes seemed to move in slow motion. Jennifer’s attention was focused on the approaching treetops, but out of the corner of her eye she was aware of Jonathan working hard to manipulate the controls to their advantage. The treetops were getting closer and closer, and they were tossed hard against their restraints as they hit the top of the treeline.

Hoping that their landing gear hadn’t been damaged when they hit the trees, Jonathan brought the plane lower and lower. He wanted to reach over to Jennifer, to help brace her for the impact as they landed, but he didn’t dare – he knew it would take all of his concentration, and all of his strength, to control the plane and minimize the damage as they hit the ground. For he knew there would be damage – and that the plane would probably not be getting off the ground again. 

The impact when they landed was more severe than the first and the small plane was bounced and tossed across the rough ground like a raft tearing through white water rapids. Jonathan now worked to slow the plane before they reached the trees at the other side of the clearing. The landing gear, which had held out so far, finally gave way and the plane fell to the right side. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Jennifer was thrown forward, but her belt held. Then the plane was finally skidding to a stop, leaving a furrow where the strut of the landing gear gouged the earth and slowed their forward motion, while turning the plane away from the path he’d set it on. The wing dipped, followed by the sound of metal twisting and tearing, and Jonathan braced himself as the plane at last jerked roughly to a stop.


	2. Chapter 2

## Helpless Hart - Part Two

_I am by your side,  
Where love will find you   
Now that we're here,   
Now that we've come this far,   
Just hold on _

_  
There is nothing to fear  
For I am right beside you   
For all my life,   
I am yours.   
  
\- Chris Daughtry, “What About Now?”_

*****

Wherever she was, it was almost completely quiet. Her body ached and her head felt like it was filled with cotton, or something equally as thick, and she didn’t want to open her eyes. But then she heard Jonathan’s anxious voice, and it all came rushing back. _The plane! The crash! Jonathan!_ She opened her eyes and realized she was slumped against the window of the plane _._

“Jennifer!” Jonathan called again, worried that she wasn’t responding. But then he was relieved to see her take a deep breath. She seemed a bit dazed, and he reached over to her, wanting to check her for injuries.

“Are you alright?” he asked, seeing blood on her forehead and leaning over to inspect it.

“I, I think so. How about you?” She, too, searched his face and body for signs of injury.

“Same here - I don’t think it’s anything serious.”

The plane was resting at an angle; releasing his harness, Jonathan climbed back to the door and opened it. Bracing herself, Jennifer followed suit and made her way out of the plane, eying the mangled wing as she stepped out. 

“Okay, so now what?” Jennifer asked, looking around the area.

Jonathan looked at his watch and said, “It’ll be getting dark soon. Let’s stay near the plane tonight, in case anyone received our distress call. I’m afraid it’s unlikely anyone did, though, so in the morning we’ll need to consider trying to get out on our own.”

Jennifer nodded, taking his words in stride. They had encountered difficult situations in the past and always managed to come out on top; she was confident this would be no different. 

“I agree – I don’t think it’s very likely that anyone heard our mayday,” she said, while hoping to be proved wrong.

“Well, let’s gather some wood for a nice big fire, and see what we can use from the plane. Then we can set up camp for the night.”

Jennifer nodded and helped her husband gather what they needed to set up a temporary camp not far from the plane. There was survival gear stowed in the plane, including sleeping bags and pads, a flare gun, jugs of water, and the emergency survival and first aid kits. They tried to move quickly as the setting sun was already dipping behind the next mountain range. It was early spring in California and it could get very cold at night, especially in the mountains where nights were crisp and cold, even in the height of summer.

They dug out a small fire pit and encircled it with the rocks. Jonathan got the fire started while Jennifer retrieved the provisions they’d packed for the trip. She set their bedrolls out near the fire, and they snacked on some energy bars from the plane’s survival packs just as the last glint of the sun sank beneath the horizon. 

A little while later, Jennifer was sitting near the fire with a welcome cup of coffee, watching the remainder of the sunset when Jonathan walked over and sat down beside her, canteen and first aid kit in hand.

“I want to take a better look at that cut of yours,” he said, opening the kit.

Jennifer reached up and gingerly explored the small gash on her forehead - she’d forgotten about it and now angled her body toward her husband. “It’s amazing that between the two of us this is the only real cut.”

Jonathan gently dabbed at the dried blood that had gathered around the wound with a damp cloth. “I know. I’m thankful things aren’t any worse.”

“Me too,” she answered, again casting her eyes over him as if to double-check that he was okay. 

“I noticed that you were moving somewhat tentatively while we were gathering wood. Are you sure there isn’t more?"

“I’m fine. I ache a little, that’s all. Besides, you’re achy, too, - I can tell.”

“Yeah, I’m going to be a bit stiff from the strain of handling the plane – it can take a lot out of you. I think I banged my knee during the landing, but it’s not bothering me much anymore.” He’d kept working as he spoke, applying a fresh bandage to his wife’s injury. “Fortunately, sweetheart, it’s not too bad,” he said, referring to her forehead.

“Did I tell you how amazing you were, handling the plane as we landed?”

“Thanks, Darling…were you afraid?”

She just shook her head slightly and said, “No, actually, I wasn’t. I was sure you could get us safely on the ground, and you did.”

“Well, your calm presence helped tremendously,” he responded, returning the loving gaze he saw in her eyes. “Remind me to thank you properly for that sometime, when we’re not so stiff and sore.” 

She saw the intense sparkle in his eyes and her smile deepened. “Oh, don’t worry, I will.”

“Let’s see what we can do to make that happen a little sooner, shall we?” Jonathan grabbed a fresh cloth and moved over to the fire as he went on, “I wish we had a hot tub out here, but seeing as we don’t, how about a hot compress?”

“Well, Darling, a hot tub sounds nice, but under the circumstances, I think a hot compress would be wonderful,” she said, already moving to ease her jacket from her aching shoulders and unbuttoning her shirt.

Jonathan dropped the thick cloth into the water and stirred the coals under the pot, waiting for it to warm up. Then, picking up the whole container, he moved to her bedroll, where he found her clad only in jeans and her bra, with a sleeping bag wrapped around her to ward off the cool night air. 

He fished the cloth out of the hot water and drained it the best he could without burning himself. Pulling the sleeping bag away from her shoulders, he frowned, noticing the reddish marks on her shoulders and torso. 

“Darling, I’m afraid you’re going to be sporting some nice bruises by morning,” he said as he gently eased her bra straps off of her shoulders with a caress. Despite the chill of the night air on her skin, it was his touch that sent a shiver through her body. Then she sighed in relief as he ran the hot cloth over her shoulders, focused on his task, and she relaxed under his therapeutic caress.

As the water cooled along with the night air, Jonathan saw her shiver again; setting the pan of water aside, he moved to sit beside her, drawing the sleeping bag up around them. She leaned against him and he held her close, placing a kiss on her forehead then resting his chin on her head. His arm slipped under the sleeping bag and began to rub her bare back in a slow, soothing motion. In response, Jennifer idly toyed with the buttons on her husband’s shirt, then slipped her fingers inside it to caress his chest; it brought him as much comfort and relief as he was sure the compress had for her.

Jonathan wasn’t sure how long they had been sitting together when he started, suddenly aware that his back was achy from their position and that his wife had grown heavy in his arms.

“Jennifer? Wake up, Darling, we can’t sleep like this,” he said softly.

“Mmmm, why not?”

Jonathan smiled, but persisted. “Come on, sweetheart - the temperature’s only gonna keep dropping, and I, for one, am getting a bit chilly.”

She sighed, quite drowsy now, and shivered again as she pulled away from her husband’s warm body.

Jonathan stood, taking Jennifer’s outstretched hands and pulling her to her feet. Drowsy and definitely feeling the cold now, she leaned into him for a minute, and he responded with a hug, wrapping his arms around her bare torso to warm her. Then he moved her forgotten bra straps back into place and bent to retrieve her shirt, helping her into it. As he drew it over her shoulders, he paused long enough to lower his head and brush his lips gently over the bruises that were just beginning to appear on her soft, freckled skin. The sensation of it sent another thrill throughout her body, helping her forget how cold it was. He noticed her reaction with a smile, prompting him to give her kiss, then he moved to quickly zip their sleeping bags together.

As Jennifer snuggled down into the warmth of their makeshift bed, Jonathan added more wood to the fire, removed his boots and lastly checked the safety on his gun, keeping it within easy reach. Then he joined his wife in the sleeping bag, keeping her between himself and the fire.

When he was finally situated, Jonathan peered at his wife, about to speak, but stopped when he saw that her eyes were already closed. He smiled as he leaned over to give her a gentle kiss.

“Goodnight, Darling,” he said softly, lying back and wrapping his arm around her.

“Mmmmm,” she murmured drowsily, causing him to smile again as he closed his eyes.

But despite his exhaustion, Jonathan couldn’t sleep; it had been an eventful day to say the least. He was fairly certain that their distress call hadn’t been picked up. It seemed rather suspicious to him that not only did their engine fail, but their radio as well, especially since both had been operating fine during his pre-flight check. Well, with any luck, the plane would be easy to spot from the air, since the wreckage was sitting in a fairly open field.

A little while later Jonathan finally fell into a light and alert sleep, ready to wake in an instant. Their luck with the crash had been unbelievable. Hopefully, it would last them a little while longer.

*****

The next morning, Jonathan and Jennifer awoke to stiff muscles and generally aching bodies, thanks to their rough landing and the hard, cold ground they’d slept on. After making some coffee and cooking a warm breakfast of eggs and sausage from their provisions, they began discussing what to do next. Neither was inclined to wait around by the plane; it would be at least three or four days before they were missed. 

“We’re fairly deep into the Sierra National Forest,” Jonathan said, pulling out their chart, “and civilization is pretty far in any direction. But I think I saw smoke to the northeast as we were landing, and Rock Creek Lake is in that general direction. So that’s as good a direction to head in as any.” 

They worked quickly to extinguish the remainder of the fire, and secure their packs with food, bedrolls and other supplies. Nodding towards the plane, Jonathan said, “We’ll grab a full water jug from the plane and head out.”

She nodded in agreement and they set off, hoping to find their way out soon.

*****

They had been walking for several hours when Jonathan stopped, scanning the horizon; Jennifer nearly crashed into him from behind.

“What’d you stop for?” she asked.

“Do you smell that?”

She sniffed, “Smell what?”

“Smoke,” he said, “I smell smoke.”

“Smoke like a campfire, or smoke like a forest fire?” she asked.

Jonathan simply pointed up, saying, “Look.”

Jennifer followed her husband’s arm and raised her eyes skyward. She saw a thin stream of gray smoke rising from the woods and into the sky.

“Come on,” Jonathan said as he started in the direction of the smoke. “Hopefully they won’t be lost too.”

“Hopefully,” she said dryly as she fell into step just behind her husband.

“What do mean?” he asked noticing her tone.

“What I mean is, that knowing our luck the fire probably belongs to a couple of Seattle bank robbers on their way to Mexico, working their way through the forests to keep from being caught.”

“Try to see the glass as half full, Darling,” he said, with that private smile he got when she amused him, as he increased the pace.

Jennifer just sighed and smiled back at him, matching his pace. They continued walking, maintaining their bearings as they tried to locate the source of the smoke.

*****

The sun was past its zenith, lowering in the sky, as they followed what appeared to be a deer path; it widened out to a less densely forested area, along the ridgeline they were traversing. They came to a large, fallen tree and decided to take a break, slipping their packs to the ground and sitting on the log.

“It’s getting late in the day – do you think we’ll have to spend another night out here?”

“Well, it’s certainly possible, although I was hoping to find some sign of civilization before nightfall.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Darling, I’m kind of getting used to roughing it in the wild - as long as I’m with y - ”

Jennifer stopped speaking suddenly, gesturing at Jonathan to do the same. At his inquiring look, she waved off to their left and said very quietly, “I think we could be in for some trouble.” About a hundred feet or so off the makeshift trail they’d been following were two bear cubs.

“They haven’t seen us; let’s just move on slowly, and give them some room, okay?” she said, rising slowly.

“Good idea,” he whispered back, joining her.

But they were too late. They froze in place as a thunderous roar overtook the forest. A loud thrashing and tearing sound exploded from behind Jonathan. They turned around just in time to see a large grizzly bear burst from the woods.

*****

The giant bear raised up on her hindquarters and roared loud enough to leave their ears ringing.

Jennifer was frozen in place and stood staring at the massive creature. She was about eight feet tall, maybe nine, and could easily have weighed anywhere from six to eight hundred pounds, and had a mouth full of sharp teeth.

The beast roared again and dropped back down to all fours with a resounding thump, seeming to shake the earth beneath their feet. The bear definitely was upset that they were between her and her cubs – that much was abundantly clear. She gnashed her teeth together a couple of times, pawing the ground and circling back and forth. They were on a bit of an incline, no doubt with a cliff off to their left. The cubs were now behind them and off to their right, blocking their best escape route, and therefore making the situation all the more dangerous.

Jonathan slowly started reaching for the shotgun that was slung across his back. 

“Jennifer, start moving slowly toward those rocks over there.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I’ll be right behind you. I just want to find a way to distract her.”

“No, Jonathan, please, just - ”

But before either of them could move the bear charged with a roar, closing the distance between them faster than Jonathan could lift his shotgun to fire. As the bear rammed into him, the impact sent him flying through the air, and he lost his hold on the gun. Jennifer turned and ran for the rocks, scrambling up into them, then looked back to see him on the ground, struggling for air like he’d had the wind knocked out of him.

“Jonathan, don’t move!” she called frantically. He obeyed instantly, trying to go slack, play dead, even as he struggled to pull air into his lungs. He couldn’t see the bear, but he sensed her presence right behind him. He could, however, see the gun, several feet from where he lay and at the moment, completely unreachable. 

The bear paced back and forth in front of him, assessing his threat to her or her cubs. Her roaring had attracted their attention, and Jennifer watched them warily out of the corner of her eye. With luck, the mama bear would just go to them, having asserted her dominance on the interlopers. She hoped.

She held her breath, unmoving - she wanted to go to Jonathan, but the cold gaze from the bear kept her locked in place. The bear held her eyes for a second longer – it felt like a year, to her - before turning its attention back to Jonathan’s now motionless body, sending a chill of fear for him up her spine. If only she could get the gun…but she knew that was hopeless. She looked at her husband again, thinking that it seemed he wasn’t breathing at all, he was so still. _Good_ , she thought, willing the bear to ignore him. But it didn’t – instead, it sniffed the ground around him, getting closer and closer, ignoring Jennifer now. Without stopping to think, she yelled, whooping and making a lot of noise in order to distract it from him.

When she succeeded, she was startled, and momentarily frozen in panic. But in that split second she thought of Jonathan, still lying on the ground just feet from the grizzly, and knew she’d had to do something. So she continued to make a racket, all the while backing slowly away from it, wondering if she should run…her instincts said yes, but she was sure that in reality it would be a bad idea.

Jonathan had felt a surge of panic when he couldn’t breathe, and again when he realized that the bear wasn’t leaving. He’d listened to his wife’s command to lie still, and had then focused on relaxing his abdominal muscles, his diaphragm, in an attempt to get air into his lungs. After a several seconds he was relieved to suck in a full breath, feeling his lungs expanding with a welcome rush. It was at that moment, however, that he heard something that made his heart start pounding double-time: Jennifer was yelling at the bear.

He slowly rolled his head back to look in her direction, toward the sound of her voice, scanning for the bear and trying not to move too much or too fast. She was attracting the bear’s attention away from him, and he was dismayed to see that it was working. She had made it onto the rocks, and now, no longer yelling, was slowly backing away from the bear as it turned to look at her, pacing its way toward her. Glancing around again, Jonathan saw the shotgun lying several feet away. He started inching toward it, arm outstretched. The bear was oblivious to him now and he rolled to get the gun, rising to his knee to take aim. But Jennifer was too close, and he couldn’t get a bead on the animal without risking her as well. Then he heard the cubs whimpering off to the left, and decided if he could only get the bear to leave…relieved, he saw the mama bear turn toward the sound; then some instinct told him it was time to act, so he quickly fired the gun into the air. The bear turned, startled, saw him, and heard her cubs crying again. He fired the gun again into the air, and this time, the bear, agitated now, stood up again on its hind legs and roared. 

Jennifer had seen her husband reach for the gun and take aim, then stop and fire the weapon into the air; it seemed as if the bear was moving off, but then she raised herself up on her hind legs again and gave another roar, and Jennifer took another step back, unaware of how close she was to the edge of the rocks. Jonathan fired the gun into the air again, and the animal, startled this time, turned from her to Jonathan and back again, clearly agitated; then it made a charge toward the rocks with a snarl before veering off toward her cubs. Spooked, Jennifer took another step; she felt a stab of pain in her ankle as it twisted on some loose stones scattered on the rocks. She lost her balance, and then she was falling.

“Jennifer!” Jonathan yelled. He saw her disappear, falling backwards, and, having no idea what was on the other side, his heart raced with fear. He looked after the bear, moving off quickly now, and then he was scrambling up and onto the rocks, searching for her.

“Jennifer!” he called. As he approached the other side of the rocks, he was relieved to see that there was no abyss off the edge of the cliff; instead, there was a drop of about 12-15 feet, and then the ground sloped gently away from the rock outcropping. He moved as quickly as he could without falling himself, and when he got to the edge and peered down, he could see her lying on the ground below, and heard her moan in pain.

“Jennifer, are you all right?” he called down to her, leaning over the edge to get a better look at her.

She frowned as if considering his question. “I, I don’t know, exactly,” she said faintly, sounding disoriented. Without another word, he began searching for a safe way down to her. Finding one, he wasted no time in getting to her side. She hadn’t moved. He immediately thought there was something odd in the way she was lying there; something didn’t look right. With a feeling of dread, he saw that she had landed on some smaller rocks at the edge of the larger outcropping, and that was why her position looked wrong; her head and shoulders were lower than her back, and her legs were at an odd angle, too - he feared they were broken. He reached her and knelt at her side.

“Don’t move, Darling – just lie still. Are you hurt badly?”

She had a confused look on her face. “That’s, that’s hard to say. My head…I’m not sure.” He thought he saw panic building in her. “What about the bear? Where is it?”

“I think it’s gone, Darling - don’t worry about the bear right now.” She reached for him, her confusion still evident, and he took her hand in his. “Tell me how you feel. Where are you hurt?”

“What happened? Where am I?” she croaked.

She saw the concern in his eyes as he said, “You fell when the bear charged the rocks. Do you remember?”

“N-no, not really. I thought I sprained my ankle…” she said. He let go of her hand and moved to her ankles first and then her legs, examining them and finding no blood or obvious signs of breaks, to his immense relief.

Returning and taking her hand again, he said, “I don’t think anything’s broken, sweetheart. Does it hurt anywhere else?”

“Ahh, I twisted my ankle, I remember that, I think, but - I can’t feel it…Jonathan, I can’t feel it,” she said faintly. _How odd,_ she thought. She no longer felt the pain in her ankle. Then everything seemed to get fuzzy and far away, like she couldn’t focus, and while she hadn’t tried to get up yet, suddenly, she didn’t think she’d be able to.

Jonathan looked at her position again, at the rocks that she’d clearly landed on when she fell. Moving as if in slow motion, he bent and tried to see what she had landed on; he could feel the jagged edges of the rocks next to her back. He felt as gently as he could under her back; she gave no indication of any pain and, when he withdrew his hand, there was some blood on it, though not enough to alarm him. Her words struck him, then – she wasn’t feeling any pain, and yet clearly something was wrong. 

It seemed as if an icy cold hand had reached into his chest and was squeezing his heart, freezing him in place and causing him a far greater fear than he had ever known before. It would be dark soon, and he had no idea where they were, or how far they were from that source of smoke they’d seen, or the lake and civilization. He didn’t dare move her. And he surely couldn’t leave her, even if he had known where they were, especially with that bear quite possibly still in the vicinity. He took a deep breath and struggled to compose his thoughts, to find his voice and answer her, even as he saw a glazed look entering her eyes.

“Jonathan?” She had heard his anxious voice but had no idea what he was saying; she worked to focus on it. He was kneeling next to her and rubbing her hand briskly, and he was saying … _something_. Jennifer redoubled her efforts to regain some clarity and his voice was able to break through the haze. She thought idly that she should probably be afraid, or at least worried. But strangely enough, she wasn’t. She felt oddly detached from the whole situation, whatever it was. She couldn’t quite seem to recall what had happened. Then she heard his voice again. Why did he sound panic-stricken? It wasn’t like him to panic.

“Jennifer!” She felt him tapping her cheeks lightly with his fingers and moved her head with a small frown, focusing on him again.

“That’s it, stay with me now,” he was saying urgently as he removed his jacket; she was lying slightly downhill, and he placed it under her head. “Jennifer, I think you’re going into shock. Try not to move. I need to go for our packs, but I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move, Darling – please just stay still.” He waited until she nodded, still with a look of confusion in her eyes, and then he reluctantly left her side, racing back up around the outcropping and back to the fallen log. He grabbed their packs and ran back the way he had come, his heart racing, gun in hand, all the while scanning the area for signs of the bear.

When he got back to her, she was barely conscious. He quickly opened up one of the sleeping bags and tucked it in around her, talking to her all the while. She seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, as he tried to keep her focused and with him. Finally, not knowing what else to do, he paused to look around them, hoping against hope that he’d be able to spot something, anything, that would be useful. But there was nothing to see…just trees, and ridge after mountainous ridge in the distance. It would be getting dark before long – he was increasingly worried and torn with indecision. He collapsed to his knees then and let out an anguished yell, hearing it echo around him. Then he took a deep, ragged breath and started gathering kindling and branches for a fire, never leaving her sight. He would have to keep her warm through the night; but then what?

He heard her voice then, drifting up to his ears, and he rushed to get back to her side. Looking down at her, he thought she looked fragile and far too pale. She had her eyes closed but was muttering disjointed thoughts and memories as she continued to slide in and out of consciousness.

“That little man looks familiar. Do I know him? He looks like the man who … From the CIA … When he was in Hawaii. Remember … And we were there too … And Max too … He wanted the key to my cabaña … I think … And then for me to take his picture … Darling … Do you remember that … You were playing … Polo? No, it’s not polo … Was it golf? … No … It was with Richard … Before he got murdered … Have you noticed that … a lot of people we know seem to get murdered? … Anyway … And then there was the bird … I’m not remembering his name either … Hmm … Let me think for a couple minutes …

“And then you threw the key away … Over the side of the boat … Like you did … Um … when you used to … To toast … In the Navy … I almost forgot that … That you used to fly submarines … But then Max … He did something to his foot … No … To his toe … And then he couldn’t dance with … with… with that lady in the muu-muu … I wonder …”

Jonathan listened and tried to respond, but his thoughts were a jumble, just like her words. He had experienced fear on any number of occasions, and usually the adrenalin rush he’d gotten at such times had served him well; they’d always found a way to escape, to solve the problem or puzzle. Whatever the scenario, they’d always come out on top. But this…this was different. They had never been in such a fix, and he understood that, for perhaps the first time, there was nothing he could do to get them – to get _her_ \- out of this one; there were no good options at all. Now, he looked down at this woman who was his partner in all things, who was everything to him, and, for the first time in his life, Jonathan Hart knew absolute terror. His hands were shaking, and he balled them into fists to try and get them to stop. He didn’t have any serious injuries himself, but for some reason he found he couldn’t think anymore and he wondered if maybe he was in shock as well. If for a very different reason.

He bent down and placed a delicate kiss on her bruised forehead, and she stopped her ramblings.

“Hold on, Darling,” he whispered in her ear. “Just hold on.”

Suddenly he heard a sound off in the distance and froze in place, holding his breath, his head raised. _Could it be?_ He wasn’t certain, but he listened intently, hoping against hope that he was right. When he heard it again, tears sprang to his eyes and his legs felt weak. His first answering yell was hoarse and quiet. But he stood then and called out, louder, and felt a thrill of overwhelming relief run up his spine as the answering voice got nearer. He ran up to the top of the rocks, still calling out, and when he saw the man whose call he’d heard appear on the deer trail, he nearly fell to his knees in astounded relief.

“Please, help me!”

“Sir, are you okay? I heard shots - ”

“Yes, there was a bear…I fired into the air and it’s gone now, I think, but my wife, she fell from the rocks - ” he gestured and ran back to her, the stranger following closely.

“I didn’t dare move her…she landed on her back…I think – I’m afraid she’s - ” but he choked on the words; he couldn’t go on, couldn’t voice his true concern, as if saying it out loud might make it real – and he wasn’t ready to face that particular fear.

“Okay. I have a radio in my cabin - it’s just about a half mile from here. I’ll go call for help. Will you be all right here with her?” The stranger could tell that the man he’d found was barely holding it together, but was encouraged as he watched him take a deep breath and marshal his emotions, then kneel by her side, taking her hand in his as he nodded his agreement.

“We’ll be fine, just, please hurry.”

The stranger nodded and clasped his arm in reassurance, then left, saying that he’d have a rescue chopper there as quickly as possible.

Jonathan just nodded again, suddenly exhausted as the rush began to fade away. He gazed down at her, a jumbled mess of conflicting emotion. Then, taking another deep breath, he leaned down to whisper again in her ear.

“Don’t worry, Darling – help is coming. Everything will be all right, I promise. Just hold on a little while longer.”

His words seemed to register with her; she nodded a little and he felt her fingers tighten their grip slightly in his hand. He squeezed them and kissed them, and then they could only wait for help to arrive.


	3. Chapter 3

Helpless Hart - Part Three

_…And when you lose it all_ _  
_ _And nothing seems right_ _  
_ _Just keep holding on to me_ _  
  
_

_I’ll be your angel, in your darkest night_ _  
_ _I’ll be your destiny, waiting by your side_ _  
_ _I’ll be the sunshine, when you’re feeling blue_ _  
_ _I’m always here, for you_ __  
  


_\- Chiara, “Angel”_

*****

Jonathan sat in a chair in the nearly empty hallway at Cedars-Sinai. He was leaning forward, his arms balanced on his knees and his eyes, unseeing, were staring at the floor as he idly twisted the wedding ring on his finger. As people passed by, he took no notice and they left him alone, for which he was grateful. He felt a mixture of relief at being there and anxiety at being separated from Jennifer, and there was nothing he could do but wait. It was uncomfortable for him, to say the least, to understand that her fate – and therefore his, as well – were now in the hands of another.

His thoughts were a jumble of concern over what was happening to her at that moment and the emotions of the past several hours. She had struggled to stay awake as they waited out in the woods but had finally succumbed to unconsciousness. From the moment the rescue EMTs had finally arrived and evaluated the situation, Jonathan had been relegated to the role of bystander, able only to watch as they very carefully transferred his wife to a stretcher and carried her the eternally long half mile to the stranger’s cabin, where, fortunately, there was a clearing big enough to accommodate the helicopter. One of the paramedics had given him a cursory exam as well, and on the walk back had extracted the story of their landing and subsequent events from him, largely to help keep him occupied, he suspected. 

The ride in the helicopter was a blur to him. They’d arrived at a regional hospital where they continued working to stabilize her, and he just…waited. The doctors there had quickly determined that she should be sent on to the city, to Cedars, and so - here they were. And he was still waiting.

Finally, a doctor approached him from down the hall; he recognized him as the neurologist who had met the helicopter when it arrived. Jonathan stood quickly, but was unable to speak in that moment.

“Mr. Hart?” 

He just nodded, and finally found his voice. “How is she?”

“Well, she’s stable and doing okay, all things considered. Why don’t we sit down?” he said, indicating the chairs behind them. Jonathan wiped a hand across his face as he sat down again, trying to prepare himself for what he suspected would come next.

“It was good thinking not to move your wife after she fell, Mr. Hart. Can you tell me what led you to make that decision?”

“Ah, well, she looked dazed, confused, and then she said - ” he paused, and the doctor just waited for him to go on. “She said she had twisted her ankle, but couldn’t feel it.” Dread crept into his heart as he recounted her words, knowing it was significant. “I could see that she had fallen on some smaller rocks, but she gave no indication of any pain.”

“Mr. Hart, you handled the situation very well. You recognized the dangers of her situation, and her shock. You kept her warm, even beginning to prepare a fire for the night, I’m told. In short, you did everything you could, and you knew what not to do as well.”

“Yeah, well, I honestly don’t know what I would have done, if that man hadn’t heard the shots and come to investigate…and I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life,” he admitted then. He ran a hand through his hair, looking and feeling utterly spent.

“You were very fortunate, indeed, Mr. Hart – as was she.” He paused, then went on, “your wife’s condition is serious, Mr. Hart, but I believe there’s hope that she can make a good recovery. When she fell on those rocks, we think she suffered what we call an incomplete SCI, or spinal cord injury. I’m pretty confident that it isn’t complete, in which case her chances of recovering normal function would have been virtually nonexistent. As it is, her 9th, 10th and 11th thoracic vertebrae were damaged in the fall. She has contusions, or bruising, to the spinal cord, and there’s a great deal of swelling. Because of the extensive bruising, we decided to operate, as you know, to look for clots and lesions. It went as well as we could hope, and now we’ll just have to see how much feeling she has when she wakes up.”

“She could be paralyzed?” he asked softly.

“Yes – the extent and location of the damage to her spinal cord indicates the likelihood that she’ll be paraplegic, that is, paralyzed from the waist down. You’ll need to prepare yourself for that possibility.”

Realizing he’d been holding his breath, Jonathan exhaled slowly. “But she _could_ recover – she could regain the use of her legs?”

“It’s possible – it depends on how well her body can recover from the damage. When neurons are damaged or lost, as some usually are in injuries like Mrs. Hart’s, the extent of recovery can be unpredictable. The MRI can see the damage, but not how bad it is. If she regains any feeling at all in the next few days, we’ll consider it a very good sign. After that, only time will tell.”

Jonathan just sat quietly for a moment, absorbing the doctor’s words, then asked, “When can I see her?”

“She’s in recovery now, and we’ll be moving her to the ICU shortly. You can see her there.”

He nodded, and the doctor made his way back to his patient. Jonathan felt desperate to see her and dismayed that he had more waiting to do. He had never been very good at it, and now, here he was again, just waiting. He stood up and wandered down the hallway, wishing Max was there. But Max was gone, as was Jennifer’s father; he’d never felt quite so alone in the world. He came to a pay phone and on impulse, picked it up and dialed a number. It rang several times, before an answering machine picked up. Not having planned out what he would say, he just started talking.

“Hi, Bill, it’s Jonathan – I’m sorry it’s so late, god it must be the middle of the night, but…I, ah, I’m calling from Cedars-Sinai – Jennifer was hurt in a fall in the mountains, and I, well I’m just waiting to see her…I don’t know what to do…. Anyway, just … just call when you get this. Please.”

He hung up, at a loss, but then a nurse found him and showed him the way to the ICU. Relieved to be seeing her at last, he forgot about the phone call as he rushed to be at her side.

*****

The next morning, Jonathan was still at her bedside. The nurses, after meeting staunch refusals to their entreaties for him to go home, to rest, to understand that there were rules governing visitors in the ICU, had finally given up. Taking pity on him, one brought him a blanket to use in the upholstered chair next to his wife’s bed. He took it, thanking her, but through that long first night, he didn’t sleep. He simply watched her, holding her hand, and talked to her endlessly. She didn’t move, didn’t wake up. The doctor had said she might not wake up quickly, as the anesthesia from surgery wore off and her body worked to heal itself.

Finally, early the next morning, exhausted, he had drifted off to sleep in the chair, pulled up close to her bedside so he could still hold her hand.

“So, Beautiful, what kind of a mess have you gotten yourself into, hmm?”

Jonathan roused when he heard the familiar voice, thinking he must be dreaming. So he was surprised to see that his friend of many, many years, Bill MacDowell, really was standing on the other side of Jennifer’s bed, holding her other hand and leaning over to talk softly to her.

“You need to wake up, honey, so this man of yours can get some rest. He looks terrible.”

Bill looked over at Jonathan as he said this and saw that he was awake. Although he tried to mask it, Bill saw the worry and fear in his friend’s eyes. He leaned over Jennifer again to whisper something in her ear, then kissed her cheek lightly and patted her hand as he moved around to the other side of her bed to greet Jonathan with a hug.

“Bill! I didn’t expect you to actually come - ”

“Nonsense, Valentine, I was on the first plane out – almost thought I’d have to fly myself down here, but that would’ve taken longer. Fortunately, I was able to sweet-talk a kind lady at the airport, so…here I am.” He paused, still gripping his friend’s hand, then asked, “how’re you holding up?”

“I’m ah, not, actually – not really.”

Bill could see the truth of it in his friend’s eyes, and, knowing all too well how reliant the two of them were on each other, he recognized how much pain he’d have to be in – especially if he felt any responsibility at all for his wife’s current condition.

“Why don’t we step out and get some coffee? You look like you could use it. And then you can tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t leave her, Bill…”

“Jonathan, I’m sure she’ll be fine for a few minutes. You need a break. Come on. We won’t go far – find a machine or something.”

Jonathan nodded reluctantly, not wanting to go, but also feeling restless and uneasy; stretching his legs might be a good idea. He thought he should probably be hungry, not having eaten in – well, he didn’t know how long. He figured the knots in his stomach wouldn’t be going away any time soon, but perhaps some food would help. Besides, he was very touched that Bill had come down all the way from Seattle – and he knew he could use someone to talk to.

*****

Jennifer thought she was awake, but her mind was hazy, as if she were lost somewhere in a fog. After a few moments, she opened her eyes slightly; she didn’t recognize the room she was in, and struggled to focus on anything. Yes, it was a hospital room. She could see several machines and monitors, most of which were on, and most of which were attached to her. Confused, she wondered how she’d gotten there. Remembering the bear, then, she gave a start - where was Jonathan? 

“Jonathan?” she said, wishing the world would clear up so she could think.

After a moment she heard a man’s voice say, “Hi, Beautiful.”

She hadn’t seen anyone in the room with her, and turned now at the sound of his voice, confused. It sounded like Bill MacDowell – he always called her that - but he had to be a thousand miles away.

But as the man got up and approached her bedside, she saw that it was, indeed, Jonathan’s close friend.

“Bill? Why are you here? Where am I? Oh god, where’s Jonathan?” Her confusion, as well as her weakened, groggy state, was evident to him, as was the quickening beeping of one of the machines. He saw immediately that she’d jumped to some awful conclusion about her husband’s absence. So he spoke softly and quickly, leaning down close to her while taking her hand in his.

“Hush, now, Jennifer, don’t worry – he’s here. He stepped out for a few minutes, that’s all. It figures you’d wake up just as he’s left your side for the first time in two days.”

She just looked at him, her heart slowing at his reassurance, and he went on with a smile, “Say, Beautiful, what’s the idea, trying to wrassle bears and such? We can’t be having such antics, now – it’d be the end of me, you know – and of that man of yours.” He still held her hand, but reached with the other to brush some hair from her face. His voice was soft as he teased her, and he was pleased when she found a small smile of her own to offer him.

“That’s better. Now, how do you feel?” he asked, as he reached for the call button to call the nurse.

“I don’t know…foggy, mostly.”

“Why don’t you rest, then, while I go find Jonathan for you.”

She nodded her thanks even as her eyes closed again. But Bill had only taken a few steps toward the door when it opened, and Jonathan came in.

“I was just coming to find you, Valentine – Jennifer here insists that she’s stuck on you for some reason – I keep tryin’, but to no avail, apparently, you lucky devil.”

Jonathan just looked at him blankly for a moment, then smiled belatedly, unprepared for any of Bill’s usual banter, another of his vain attempts to sway Jennifer is his direction; but then he looked to his wife, and, seeing a faint smile on her lips, he said her name and went quickly to her side, sitting on the edge of the bed where he could take her hand and look into her eyes as they opened and found his. They were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

“Jonathan.”

“Jennifer, Darling! You gave me quite a scare, my love.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice still faint.

“Don’t be – everything will be fine now, you’ll see.”

She just smiled, too tired to respond, yet wondering why it sounded as if he was trying to convince her – and perhaps himself, but her mind was still too foggy to consider what it might mean.

“I was worried…there was a bear, and wasn’t there a crash, too? It’s so hard to remember,” she mumbled, her words a bit disjointed, and concern flashed across his face as he recalled her words up on the mountain.

“Yes, Darling, but we got through okay…I landed the plane, remember? And you – you chased off the bear.”

“I did?”

“Yes - you were amazing. But then…you fell,” he said.

“I twisted my ankle.”

“So you told me.”

Suddenly feeling in the way, and knowing, with a heavy heart, all that Jonathan had confided in him, Bill offered up an excuse of getting himself and Jonathan something to eat, and left the couple alone. 

Jonathan just kept holding her hand, relieved that she was finally awake, a small smile on his face for the first time in days. Jennifer smiled back, her mind beginning to clear slowly; she also was relieved that their mountain adventure was over, and that he was okay. But then their reunion was interrupted as the door opened again and the nurse entered.

“Mrs. Hart – welcome back,” she said kindly as she began to check her over. “My name is Madeline. How are you feeling?”

“Groggy. Everything’s hazy. What am I doing here? Jonathan, you know how I dislike hospitals.” She looked from the nurse then back to Jonathan.

“You’ve gotten some pretty hefty pain-killers – they account for the fogginess you’re experiencing. But that should continue to improve, okay? Just give it some time. I’ll let your husband help you remember, while I go page your doctor. I’ll be back soon.”

Jennifer nodded, not feeling like she had the energy to do anything but lie still, anyway. Her thoughts went back to the mountain, and she began remembering more clearly. They’d encountered a bear…. She remembered succeeding in getting it to ignore Jonathan. She was on the rocks…but that’s when things got…murky. What had happened next? Why was she in the hospital? She vaguely remembered Jonathan’s voice, filled with – what? – with panic, or fear, or…something. How odd…she frowned, frustrated at not being able to remember more clearly.

“Jonathan, what’s going on?”

Suddenly uncomfortable, Jonathan said, “Darling, perhaps we should wait for the doctor…”

“Why? What aren’t you telling me?” She looked afraid, then, and he couldn’t handle that. So he took a deep breath and began.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“A bear…she wouldn’t leave you alone. I yelled. You shot the gun into the air…” she paused, thinking. “I twisted my ankle – it hurt. I don’t remember anything after that.”

He just looked at her with steady eyes, wondering how to proceed.

“Jonathan?” she said, a spark of memory, perhaps, and understanding in her eyes now. “It’s…it’s just the pain killers, right? They’re the reason I…can’t feel my ankle?”

She could see his answer in his eyes, before he said the words. She shook her head in denial.

“No, Darling. We don’t think that’s why.” He paused, then had to continue, and, for all that she lay there looking pale and fragile, her eyes bored into his intently. “You fell, sweetheart. Only about twelve feet, maybe fifteen. But you landed on some rocks, and ah…” He stopped again, looking away. He’d never had more difficult words to say. But he met her gaze again firmly and forced himself to go on, preferring now that she hear the rest from him.

“Several vertebrae in your spinal cord were damaged, Darling. But the doctor thinks…”

“No, no - Jonathan, that can’t be - ” She shook her head in denial, not wanting to believe him, preferring to believe then that she hadn’t lost - anything, but…she looked down and saw that his hand was resting on her knee, and she realized that she hadn’t felt his touch. The very idea of that caused a sob escaped her lips. 

Unable to bear the look in her eyes, Jonathan leaned toward her and pulled her into his arms, just holding her and murmuring in her ear. “Shhh…everything will be okay - no matter what happens, Jennifer, I promise you. All right?”

She just clung to him, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she absorbed the implications of his words, as her whole life, and perhaps her very identity, suddenly began to spiral rapidly out of her control.

Jonathan held her tightly, wanting to take away her distress, to save her from this situation, and feeling utterly helpless because he couldn’t. He was relieved at least to feel the tension in her body begin to ease as he held her and continued to whisper reassuringly to her.

Shortly – too soon, really – there was a knock on the door. As they broke their embrace, the nurse returned, followed by a doctor. He was wearing a white lab coat and holding a clipboard, and looked very tall, with a thin build for a man. He wore prescription glasses over his hazel eyes and had short salt and pepper hair.

“Mr. Hart,” he said first, nodding at him, then turned to his patient. “Mrs. Hart, I’m glad to see you’re awake at last. My name is Dr. Louis Shearer. I was the neurologist on call the day you were brought in; I’ve been treating you since your arrival here.” He paused before going on. “I take it your husband has explained - ?”

“Yes. Well, maybe not completely,” Jennifer said slowly, her mind whirling at the thought of needing a neurologist.

“Okay then. I know you’ve just woken up to what must feel like a nightmare, Mrs. Hart. But I need to examine you now, so we can determine a better diagnosis and figure out what happens next. Mr. Hart can return when we discuss your prognosis.”

She nodded her assent but said, “I’d prefer my husband to stay, if you don’t mind.”

Dr. Shearer looked at Jonathan to see if he was comfortable with that. Sometimes it was hard for family members, especially at first. But he’d heard the story of their accident, and that the man had refused to leave her alone during the night. He saw nervous concern in his face, but stubbornness and staunch support as well. Recognizing that he wasn’t going anywhere, he nodded and answered her. “Of course.”

The doctor pulled the sheet covering her legs off to the side, leaving her clad in only the thigh length hospital gown. He instructed her to close her eyes, and to tell him whenever she felt something. She nodded again, taking a deep breath, reassured by the feel of Jonathan’s hand in hers.

Dr. Shearer reached down and began to rub Jennifer’s right foot. “Anything?”

“Anything what?” asked Jennifer blankly. The doctor didn’t answer, and she bit her lip nervously. He continued the exam, poking and prodding her feet. It took Jennifer a moment to realize that, for all she had _thought_ she could tell her legs were there, that she could feel them, the reality was that she couldn’t, any more than she had felt Jonathan’s hand on her knee. So she peeked, observing him as he poked and prodded, now at her calf and knee. Nothing. She immediately tried to move her legs, only to find them completely unresponsive. She felt Jonathan squeeze her hand, and looked to find him gazing back at her, with reddened eyes.

Dr. Shearer looked up and said, “Mrs. Hart, I know this is a shock, but I need you to relax and close your eyes again for me, and concentrate, please,” the doctor said calmly, causing her to pull her eyes away from Jonathan’s. She felt a lump form in her throat and her eyes filled with tears: tears of fear, sadness, uncertainty. She felt Jonathan squeeze her hand in silent support and she blinked, this time allowing the tears to roll freely down her cheeks. 

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm her inner panic and comply.

Dr. Shearer worked his way up from Jennifer’s knee to her thigh, across her hips, first with one leg, then the other, glancing up at her face occasionally, trying to catch any reaction from her at all. 

When he reached her abdomen, Jennifer said, “I can feel that.”

“Well yes, I knew you would,” the doctor said as he folded the sheet back into place. 

“What do mean, you knew?”

“Your injury was sustained in the lower thoracic vertebrae; the higher up the injury, the less feeling you’d have. When I came in earlier, you were sitting up, hugging your husband, which indicates that you’re able to control your lower back and abdominal muscles. That’s a good sign, Mrs. Hart,” he said, smiling again.

Jonathan leaned over and kissed the side of her head, murmuring encouraging words in her ear, which made her smile. But her smile faded as she said, “But I didn’t feel anything else.”

“Well, that was almost to be expected, so soon after your accident and surgery. We’ll have to monitor your condition over the next several days before we can give you a more concrete prognosis.”

“So, what do you think that is, as of right now?” she asked nervously, feeling quite vulnerable and afraid of what his response would be.

Dr. Shearer nodded, understanding her need to know his prediction, no matter how difficult it was to say at this point. He pulled up a chair.

“First of all, Mr. & Mrs. Hart, I don’t want to scare you, but I need you to understand the severity of the situation. We are dealing with something very serious here. Possibly life-altering.”

_Life-altering_ , Jennifer thought, feeling a sudden trace of bitterness. _That’s an understatement_.

“Secondly,” he continued, “I don’t want you to think that anything is set in stone. At this point it isn’t, and we have every reason to believe this won’t be permanent. Your surgery went well, and given the location and nature of the injury, there’s reason to hope.”

He paused to look at them both, then went on. “Right now there is considerable swelling around your spinal cord, making it hard for us to tell anything for certain. It’s possible the swelling alone is what’s causing the paralysis.”

“Paralysis,” she said, almost choking on the word, feeling the weight of it bearing down on her, making her predicament truly seem real for the first time.

Jonathan caught her tone and understood it all too well. He felt helpless, useless…he didn’t know what to do for his wife right now. _How must she feel, with that word hanging in the air like a life sentence?_

Helpless was not something that Jonathan Hart did well, especially when Jennifer was concerned. So he simply leaned over to her again and whispered, “Jennifer, I love you and we’ll get through this together.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered back, tears glistening again in her eyes.

Dr. Shearer rose and said, “I’ll leave you alone for now. Madeline will be in to check on you periodically, and to arrange for your physical therapy.”

“How long do I have to stay here?” Jennifer asked.

“Well, I’d like to keep you for observation for a few days, at least, then we can reassess your condition. If you’re stable enough, you can go home and continue your recovery and treatment there. You’ll need daily physical therapy, for starters.”

“When will we know…?”

“It could be six, maybe eight weeks before we know anything definitive. Time will tell, Mrs. Hart. I know it’s difficult, but try to be patient, and think positively.”

She nodded, disheartened, and squeezed Jonathan’s hand more tightly as the doctor left.

“Darling,” Jonathan began, then stopped, not sure how to go on.

“Yes?” she prompted him, turning to look at him.

“I know how sudden this is for you – it has been for me, too. How are you doing? With…all this?”

Jennifer looked away for a moment, then back at him, tears shining in her eyes again. He could see her fear, her vulnerability, and it broke his heart to know what she must be suffering, and the challenges that were ahead of her.

“Jonathan, I can’t tell you – I have no idea. It’s all too much – it’s happening too quickly for me to process. I don’t know what I’m supposed think or feel. I don’t want to think about it just yet - I can’t. Please.” There was disbelief, and anguish, in her tone, and her voice tapered off as she finished.

“Okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay…you don’t have to.” He moved to stretch out carefully beside her in the bed, facing her and gathering her in his arms as the stress of it all overwhelmed her and she started to cry in earnest. He just held her as closely to him as he could as she buried her face in his chest, feeling the need to be protected, to be secure. At that moment, she wanted only to escape reality - and the difficulties that waited outside his loving embrace. 

After a while she quieted. Her breathing gradually became slow and regular, and he hoped she’d find some peace in sleep. He closed his eyes, his heart breaking, and wished they could both wake up to find that all of this had just been a bad dream. 

Jonathan looked up when he heard a knock on the door, hoping that it wouldn’t be the nurse, wanting no interruptions. When he saw Bill stick his head in the door, he just frowned and shook his head slightly; Bill took in the scene and got the message. He nodded, pointing toward the hall, and disappeared again, closing the door softly behind him. Jonathan felt exceedingly grateful that Bill had made the trip to Los Angeles, and for his support as well – he realized in that moment how much he needed it - almost as much as Jennifer needed his, he was sure. He closed his eyes again, his head inclined to rest lightly against hers, and took comfort simply in the feel of her in his arms. He was thankful that they were both alive, and together, after the crazy sequence of events in the mountains. He was beginning to truly grasp the tough road that lay ahead of them. But he was confident that they would be fine, in the end – no matter how things turned out.


	4. Chapter 4

Helpless Hart - Part Four

_When you’re weary, feeling small,_ _  
_ _When tears are in your eyes,_ _  
__I will dry them all_ _  
_ _I’m on your side_ _  
_ _When times get rough_ _  
_ _Like a bridge over troubled water_ _  
_ _I will lay me down_ _  
  
_

 _When evening falls so hard_ _  
_ _I will comfort you_ _  
_ _I’ll take your part_ _  
_ _When darkness comes_ _  
_ _And pain is all around,_ _  
__Like a bridge over troubled water_ _  
_ _I will ease your mind_  
  


_\- Simon & Garfunkel, “Bridge Over Troubled Water”_

*****

When Jonathan got back to the hospital later that day after showering and changing clothes at the house, he saw Jennifer staring listlessly out the window of her private room; he caught just a glimpse of her expression – bleak, depressed – before she heard him and turned to him with a bright smile. It was clearly a forced one, and he felt concerned for her state of mind. She seemed to be getting over the shock and denial that she’d exhibited at first very quickly – too quickly, he was afraid. But he put the thought aside for the time being and crossed to her bedside to give her a kiss.

“Did you miss me?” he asked with a smile.

“Mhmm,” she answered, smiling back more genuinely now.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Fine.” She glanced away, not elaborating, but he thought he saw a shadow cross her features again, despite her words. She asked, “Did you get Bill all situated?”

He nodded. “Yeah. We went by the airport to pick up the car on the way. He’ll be back later to visit. I think it’ll be good for Freeway Jr. to have him at the house. And he’s going to stop by the office for me tomorrow as well.” He watched her as he spoke; again a range of emotions crossed her face. 

Jennifer turned her head to look out the window again, saying, “Oh Jonathan, what am I going to do now? How am I going to _do_ anything…?” 

“We, Darling,” he admonished softly. She turned to look at him then; of course he would think that way. And yet, he wasn’t the one lying in a hospital bed, unable to move from it. She frowned and shook her head, trying to banish such negative thoughts. He was only reminding her that they were a team; she knew he was right, and loved him for it. So she gave him a small, contrite smile, wanting him to know she understood.

“Jennifer,” he went on softly, “I don’t have any answers. I don’t know what we’re going to do. But I know what we’re not going to do. Dr. Shearer said it would take about six to eight weeks to be sure. So, we’re not going to worry about anything beyond that. We’re not going to believe that this is permanent unless Dr. Shearer tells us it is. And we’re not going to give up hope.” Jonathan held her hands and looked deeply into her eyes.

“But what if it is?”

“Let’s give it six to eight weeks - okay?”

Jennifer nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said simply. 

He just looked at her, trying to determine if she meant it. He was about to respond when the door opened and Madeline walked in, followed by a young man.

“Mrs. Hart, this is Justin Narvel. He’ll be your physical therapist while you’re here at Cedars.”

Justin Narvel was a tall, young man with roguish, yet clean-cut good looks. His thin frame made him look all the more muscular. Dark hair and eyes, paired with just a hint of a light southern accent added to his already considerable charm.

They greeted him and then he began to explain the physical therapy regimen she’d need to follow.

“Mrs. Hart, we’ll be working together in daily sessions to achieve several goals, to help you function as independently as possible during – and after - your recovery.”

“How long will it take?” she asked.

“Well, the process will be ongoing…”

“But when can I go home?”

“That will depend on a few things. First of all, clearance from Dr. Shearer. When patients leave the hospital, they usually go to a rehabilitation facility. How long they stay there depends on many - ” he stopped, seeing her negative reaction.

“No, no - I want to go home. Can’t I continue therapy there?”

“Well, we’ll have to discuss that with Dr. Shearer, of course. And I also have some say in that decision. There are certain accommodations you’ll need, and skills you should learn before going home.”

“Such as?” Jonathan asked.

“Well, you need to be able to tolerate certain positions which may be difficult, due to the nature of your injury. You don’t want to aggravate the injury, and you won’t have the usual indicators to let you know when something isn’t right. You should be able to maneuver a wheelchair, and get in and out of both it and your bed. Among other things.” He ended there, not wanting to make the road ahead seem overly daunting, as he knew it often was for many patients. 

His new patient just nodded, remaining silent, and he finished up by saying, “Mrs. Hart, I’m going to consult with your doctor, and we’ll probably get started with our first session in the morning, okay?” Again she nodded. 

“Okay – I’ll see you later then.” He smiled and left. Outside the door, he stopped when he heard Mr. Hart’s call.

“Mr. Narvel…”

“Call me Justin, please.”

“Justin. I want to discuss what the necessary accommodations would be, to take my wife home as soon as possible.”

Justin thought for a moment then said, “For Mrs. Hart to have the greatest level of independence and self-sufficiency, she’ll need to be able to navigate a single floor of the house, and be able to meet all of her needs there. She should probably have a hospital bed for a while, which will be easier to get in and out of. There are many considerations, but you can rent everything she’ll need. I can help you identify what’s necessary, so it wouldn’t be impossible for her to continue therapy at home.”

“Okay. I think we can manage that.”

“I’ll draw up a list, and we can discuss it with Dr. Shearer.”

“That’d be fine. Thanks.” Jonathan shook the physical therapist’s hand and turned back to his wife’s room.

*****

Later that evening, while Bill was back to visit, Jonathan could tell that Jennifer’s energy was waning. He looked over at his friend, and saw that he had also noticed.

“Well, Beautiful, I think I’ll head back to the homestead so I can get some beauty rest of my own. Valentine seems to think it’d be a good idea to send me to _work_ in the morning, of all things.” He winked at her, at his incorrigible best, and she had to smile.

“Making you come out of retirement, is he?”

“Don’t let him fool you. He’s only playing messenger, picking up some things for me,” Jonathan interjected.

“Darling, why don’t you just go with him in the morning? I’ll be fine. Besides, I’ll be having my first round of physical therapy. You’d only be sitting around waiting…I’m sure you have things you need to attend to at the office.”

He just looked at her, his desire to stay with her at odds with his obligations to the company, particularly when he was so short-staffed.

She went on, “In fact, why don’t you go home with Bill? You can’t be sleeping well in that chair.”

“Well, Darling, I know how you hate hospitals…”

Sensing that they needed a moment alone to discuss it, Bill moved to take her hand, saying, “I’ll see you again tomorrow afternoon, before I head back to Seattle, ok?” She nodded, and he leaned over to kiss her cheek.

“Jonathan, I’ll be out in the hall. Just let me know the plan,” Bill said, gripping his arm as he left. 

Jonathan nodded at him, glad once again for his understanding, then went to sit on the bed with her. He wanted to see her eyes, her expression. He was more concerned for her comfort and well-being than for his own, and he was surprised that she was suggesting he go home.

Jennifer knew what he was thinking, and much as his presence was comforting to her, she didn’t want him neglecting work or his own health. And, she admitted privately to herself, she needed some time alone, to absorb her situation, to think about how to handle it. There was so much he couldn’t, and shouldn’t, do for her…so much she’d have to figure out how to do for herself. And somehow she didn’t want him just…hovering. 

So she took his hands in hers and put on a brave face, wanting to assure him she was all right. “Darling, I’ll be fine – really. The medication makes me drowsy. You don’t need to stay here, watching me sleep.”

“But I like watching you sleep,” he said with a smile.

She returned his smile, knowing the truth of it; over the years she’d gotten used to, and always enjoyed, waking to find his gaze on her; she likewise loved observing him in the peacefulness of sleep.

“I know, Darling…but you need your rest, too. Besides, Justin will be here in the morning, and I want - no, I need - to do the physical therapy on my own. Why don’t you go to the office with Bill, do whatever you need to do, and we can catch up in the afternoon.”

“Well, all right. As long as you’re sure….” He supposed her reasoning made sense, but was still reluctant to leave her.

She nodded, demonstrating more confidence than she was feeling. “I’m sure. Go spend some time with Bill, and do what you need to do. I’m not going anywhere….” Her voice trailed off. The reality of her statement hovered uncomfortably in the air between them, until he leaned in to kiss her and pull her into a hug, whispering, “Okay.” He felt no more certain about it than she seemed, but he thought he understood.

Madeline knocked and entered the room with Jennifer’s evening meds. She left after her patient had taken them, and Jonathan helped her get comfortable again.

“Thank Bill for coming for me, would you?” she asked, holding his hand and stalling, reluctant now to let him go.

“You bet,” he answered, equally as hesitant to leave her side.

“Stay with me a while?” she asked.

“Of course. Until you’re asleep, okay?” he replied.

She nodded, already feeling the effects of the medication. “I told you it’d make me drowsy,” she commented.

“Mhmm…just rest, Darling, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Okay,” she whispered as she drifted to sleep. 

He continued to hold her hand until her breathing was slow and regular and he could tell she was asleep, then he leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead and reluctantly stood up to leave.

*****

The next morning, Deanne and Stanley greeted him at the office. He filled them in on the events of the past several days, while asking that they keep it confidential, since the news had not yet been made public. He’d prefer to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Jonathan tried to focus on working, and to force all thoughts about the accident from his mind. He sat down at his desk and began reviewing the final details on the Galaxy merger that Stanley had pulled together. He had also asked Deanne to bring him a file of any applicants for the executive position that had been posted before he and Jennifer left for their trip. It wasn’t long before Deanne was knocking on the door and handing him the file from the Human Resources department.

He opened the file, knowing that there was no doubt he’d need to bring someone in now. He intended to spend little or no time at Hart Industries for the next few months – for however long Jennifer’s recovery took. He definitely needed to hire a new executive. He’d known it even before their trip, and he hoped that the file of applicants would have some viable candidates.

He took out the applications and began reviewing them. Every résumé was impressive, to say the least, but Jonathan finally narrowed it down to seven applicants, two of which stood out beyond the others.

The first was a middle-aged man, Carl Delano. He had a strong background from prestigious schools in business and literature, and had worked for several respected and well-known businesses, although Jonathan frowned somewhat upon seeing several conglomerates in Delano’s employment history that he knew had little regard for their own employees, let alone for the staff of the companies which they’d acquired in mergers. It made him pause, wondering if Delano would be a good fit for Hart Industries. However, his résumé was otherwise impressive.

The other top candidate was also middle-aged, though a woman. Like Delano’s, Cammi Nysedi’s résumé boasted a strong schooling in business, with undergraduate degrees in psychology and mathematics. Additionally, her career path demonstrated more initiative, among other things, and she had worked for more socially responsible companies. She had other skills as well, such as being trilingual, making her a potential asset with regard to some of the international divisions of the company. 

Jonathan decided to call them both in for interviews to see if either would work out. He hoped that both Mr. Delano and Ms. Nysedi would be as impressive in person as they appeared on paper. 

*****

Despite the meds, in the end Jennifer hadn’t slept especially well. She had never liked hospitals, and with the nurses coming and going periodically, restful sleep had for the most part eluded her. Consequently, she had dwelled too much on her predicament, and felt Jonathan’s absence much more than she had anticipated. In truth, neither of them dealt well with separation.

She was groggy from lack of sleep and feeling despondent when Justin arrived the next morning for her first physical therapy appointment.

“Good morning, Mrs. Hart,” he said brightly, while picking up on her mood and wondering what he could do to alleviate it, even a little. 

She turned to look at him. “Good morning,” she replied, but he could tell she didn’t believe there was anything good about it, despite the California sunshine streaming through the window of her private room.

“Dr. Shearer says your condition is stable enough to start physical therapy. Are you ready?”

She nodded, but he could see her hesitation. He knew how hard the adjustment was for people learning all of the constraints of paralysis. The beginning was always fraught with uncertainty, fear, pain, even humiliation, and countless other difficulties. 

“Why don’t we go over what you can expect from the therapy – what it entails, and what we hope to achieve.”

She just nodded again, and tried to listen as he outlined how they would proceed. He reiterated the skills she’d need to master and how long she should expect it to take, before she could go home. He went over how she would need to continue with her physical therapy sessions upon discharge. He suggested that she consider hiring a live-in nurse to assist her, at least for the short term. As he spoke he watched her, not sensing that she was paying particularly good attention.

Finally, looking out the window again, she admitted, “I guess I’m going to have to get used to needing other people to help me with everything all the time.”

“You’ll need some help initially, everyone does,” Justin answered honestly.

“Yes, I suppose they would,” Jennifer replied as she turned away from the window, resting her head against her pillow. 

“Our goal, Mrs. Hart, is to get you to a point where you no longer need help with everything. I know you’re hoping this is temporary. I hope that for you, too. But you need to be prepared, in case it isn’t. You’ll need to work hard, but you can regain your independence, regardless of the outcome.”

“I can’t give up my life, who I was before – who I _am_.”

“Maybe you won’t have to – but things will change. You need to face that, and so must your husband.” Justin knew it was usually very difficult for loved ones to adapt, just as it was hard for the patient.

“My husband seems determined not to think about it at all until we know something for certain, in six to eight weeks.”

“Well, he’ll have to come to terms with this, too, and in his own way, Mrs. Hart. But I think you’ll fare better - short or long term – if you don’t delay dealing with it yourself.” 

She considered his words, but in her heart she was still grieving the loss she was experiencing, one she felt she couldn’t escape. Everything about her world, and her existence in it, had shifted so far off-base that she still couldn’t absorb it, couldn’t orient herself to her new circumstances. But she nodded reluctantly, indicating that she was ready to get started with the therapy session; she had to, to get out of that bed, and out of the hospital, so she could go home. It was her first and foremost desire. She’d have to think on the rest.

*****

Later that day, Jonathan returned to the hospital where he found Bill visiting with Jennifer. He was pleased to see her smile, as she laughed at something Bill said. She swatted his arm, which was in easy reach since he was sitting on her bed and leaning toward her.

“Hey, you two,” Jonathan said as he entered, a smile of his own on his face. “Do I need to be concerned here?” They just laughed again as he crossed the small, private hospital room and bent to give her a kiss, pushing his supposed rival lightly out of the way with a mock frown.

“Maybe you should be. Bill’s been recounting stories for me from your Navy days together.” There was a sparkle in her eyes as she teased him. It heartened him to see it. Still leaning over her, he said, “Don’t believe a word he says, Darling. You know what an incorrigible liar he is.”

“I think it’s too late for that, _Valentine,_ ” she replied with another smile and an arch of her eyebrow, and he wondered just what exactly Bill had told her about this time.

“Okay, well, I have a plane to catch, so I’m outta here,” Bill said as he rose, neatly evading the searching glance Jonathan threw him.

“Do you need a ride to the airport?”

“Nah - I’ve still got the rental.”

“Okay. What time is your flight? Can you hold on a moment before you go? I just got here after all.”

Bill guessed that, for all his joking, Jonathan wanted to talk to him, so he said “Yeah, sure – I don’t have to be at the airport for a little while.” 

“Okay – great.”

Bill went to give Jennifer a kiss on the cheek. “Take care of yourself, Beautiful.”

She nodded. “I promise.”

As he turned to go, Jonathan stayed at his wife’s side, asking, “How did your morning go?”

“Oh, it was fine, I guess. Why don’t you say goodbye to Bill, and I’ll tell you about it.”

“Okay. Be right back,” he said quietly as he squeezed her hands, then got up to follow Bill into the hall.

Finding him waiting, Jonathan indicated they should walk and they headed for the elevator. Bill thought that Jonathan looked troubled, perhaps something more than just the worry and fear exhibited by his friend since he’d joined them at the hospital. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, he offered, “She’ll be fine, Valentine. You’ll see.”

Jonathan had been lost in thought and looked at him now. “I hope so, Bill. She was pretty upset yesterday, and has been rather withdrawn ever since. It’s not like her. It was good to see her smiling and laughing. Thanks for being here. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to the office today….”

“There’s no reason to second-guess yourself, Jonathan. She had therapy, and you had business to attend to that will make it easier for you to be at home. Sure, she missed you, but she was okay.”

Jonathan nodded in acknowledgement, giving up that line of thought, and simply said, “I’m glad you came, Bill. Really, I can’t tell you how much it means to us – to me.”

“Of course, Valentine. You just give a yell if you need anything, anything at all, and I’ll be back here in flash.”

Jonathan paused, looking at his friend. “Well, actually, Bill, there is something you can do for me. I’ve been so preoccupied I nearly forgot. Would you be willing to go check out the plane? I don’t think there’s going to be any rush to recover it, and something…well, something’s been bothering me about the whole thing. Everything checked out pre-flight. How is it possible that the engine and the radio both went out at the same time?”

Bill nodded. As experienced pilots, both knew how to prepare for a flight, what to look for. It was quite a coincidence that they had engine trouble and also just happened to have radio trouble that prevented them from summoning help.

“I’m on it, Jonathan. It might take me a few days to get out there. I’ll have to beg, borrow or steal a helicopter, for one thing. Then Peter and I’ll run some tests, or have them run – whatever’s necessary. Quietly, of course. You said you landed in a small clearing - do you have the coordinates?”

“Right here,” Jonathan said, handing him a slip of paper. “It’s pretty remote. Hopefully it’ll still be intact.”

“You really think someone might have messed with it?”

“I honestly don’t know, but it seems like too great a coincidence to me.”

“I’ll check it out – thoroughly.” Bill reached out to clasp his friend’s arm, seeing the worry returning to his features.

Jonathan returned the hug, thanking Bill again, then they parted ways, Bill to the airport and Jonathan back to his wife’s side.

*****

“It’s good to be home,” Jennifer said a week or so later, as her husband wheeled her through the door and into the large foyer of their reconstructed home.

Almost instantly, a little bundle of white and gray fur came barreling out of the kitchen, rocketing towards Jennifer’s chair, and jumped onto her lap. He planted his two front paws on her chest as his tiny pink tongue attacked his mistress’s face. His tail was moving so fast and hard the little dog almost tipped himself over.

“Junior!” she exclaimed, hugging the little dog to her and turning her head to avoid some of the slobbery onslaught. But the little dog would not be deterred and he continued to kiss her.

Jennifer finally managed to get him to calm down and even though the kisses stopped, his tail continued to shake vigorously. After a few more minutes he settled himself on her lap while Jennifer ran one hand up and down his back, the other scratching behind his ears.

“I think he missed me.”

“That makes two of us.” Jonathan paused, moving around to where he could see her face, glad to see even a little spark of joy in her eyes as she greeted Freeway Junior. “It’s great to have you home,” he said simply.

“That day we left for the weekend seems like forever ago.” As she spoke it was if a cloud descended over her again as she remembered everything that had happened since that day, and some of the light left her eyes. Jonathan felt sadness stab at his heart.

Melissa appeared in the door, carrying some of the equipment and gear from the hospital.

“Why don’t I show you what we’ve set up, Darling, then we can see about some dinner.” He pushed the chair to the left, to the seldom-used room off the foyer. It had been equipped with the recommended hospital-style bed and other equipment that Justin had discussed with him, but there were homey touches as well. It didn’t have the sterile feeling of a hospital room, and she sighed in relief to have escaped those dreary surroundings. She felt better already.

“Can you bring me my bag, Darling?” she asked. “I can get settled in here myself while you show Melissa the guest house.”

“Okay.”

Jennifer returned her attention to Freeway, who was still in her lap. “Did you miss me, baby? Were you a good boy?” He gave her more doggie kisses, and she went on, “Yes, I missed you too.”

When Jonathan returned, he asked, “Are you hungry, Darling? Tired?”

Jennifer continued to pet Freeway while she thought about it. “I’m not tired, but I could use something to eat. Something with taste,” she added wryly.

“I think that can be arranged. What are you in the mood for?”

She eyed him for a minute. “Let’s order out. LaScala, maybe? Or something simpler, like pizza? That’d be quicker, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, and Guido still delivers,” he said with a smile.

“Sounds good,” she said.

“Why don’t we get settled in the living room, and I’ll call in our order?” he said, pushing the chair into the living room. He smiled when he heard Jennifer gasp upon seeing the large assortment of flowers littering the room.

“Get well wishes from a few friends,” Jonathan explained from behind her.

“Looks like more than a few,” she said as she looked around. Jonathan moved to the desk and retrieved a pile of cards and notes, handing them to her. “You can look these over while I call Guido’s.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over his wife’s. “Welcome home, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Darling,” she answered, smiling back at him. He stood and retreated into the kitchen to find the menu and make the call.

Jennifer had read several of the cards when Jonathan came back in with a glass of water and her medications.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her the glass and then twisting off the top of one of the bottles.

Jennifer accepted the glass and sighed, “Darling, these make me tired, and I really don’t want to go to sleep. It’s not even six o’clock yet.”

Jonathan shook his head back and forth, “Not these, Dr. Shearer lowered the prescription. This one, however, you still have to take at full strength.”

“They make me moody.”

“You’re cute when you’re moody. Here,” and he handed her the twin sets of pills, grinning as she simply arched her eyebrow in response, a slight smile paying at her lips. “The pizza will be here in about half an hour. I’m going to run upstairs and change. Will you be all right?”

Jennifer swallowed the pills and washed them down with the water. “I’ll be fine - go ahead and do whatever you need to.”

“Okay.” Jonathan walked out of the living room and toward the steps. Jennifer watched him go and then turned her attention back to the cards and notes that still sat on her lap. She paused when the telephone rang, interrupting her. Grasping the wheels of the chair, she propelled herself over to the desk to answer it.

The call was from one of the human resources staff people at Hart Industries, and Jennifer took down the message for Jonathan. She had just hung up the phone when he walked back into the living room.

“Was that anything important, Darling?"

"It was the HR office. Someone named Cammi Nysedi is in town and was inquiring about a job. She’s only going to be in town overnight and would like to arrange a meeting, if possible. Here’s the number for her hotel room.”

“Damn,” cursed Jonathan.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Darling, I just wanted to interview her for a position.”

“What position?”

Jonathan sat down next to her in the desk chair and said, “It’s an executive position. I’ve lost a few lately, you know. She has an impressive background, and comes pretty highly recommended.”

“So call her and set up the interview.”

“We just got you home. I’d much prefer to stay here with you.”

“It’s okay, Darling. Really. I don’t mind.”

“It’s not a good time. If she’s interested in the job, she can wait, or come back. I wasn’t planning to hold interviews until next week anyway.”

“Jonathan, we need to go on with our lives. If she’s a good candidate, then it’s important to interview her, so just go do it. I’m sure it won’t take long, and in the meantime I can get settled in. Melissa is here if I need anything.”

Jonathan squeezed her hands lightly, saying, “Are you sure?”

Jennifer smiled and said, “Darling, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

He finally nodded slowly in agreement and said, “Well, okay then. Is there anything you need before I call her back?”

“All I need is you,” Jennifer said seriously, leaning toward him to place her arms around his neck.

Jonathan, equally serious, leaned closer so she could achieve her aim. His arms came to rest on her chair where his hands could caress her back and sides and he could still look deeply into her eyes, and he said, “Well, you’ve got me. And the need is very, very mutual.”

The doorbell rang, and with a sigh Jennifer released him and he moved to answer it, reappearing a minute later with a large pizza box.

“Where do you want to eat?” he asked.

“How about on the patio?”

He nodded, carrying the pizza box into the kitchen. Jennifer secured the large pile of cards and notes on her lap, then wheeled after him.

“What would you like to drink, Darling?” he asked.

Seated in her chair, Jennifer frowned as she noticed that the counter was nearly eye level with her new height. “How about a glass of wine or a beer?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Sorry, I know beer goes well with pizza, but nothing alcoholic with your meds, you know. How about milk or juice? Iced tea maybe?”

“Iced tea, I guess. I’ll meet you on the patio, after you make that call.” She moved outside, pleased to manage the threshold well, then sat at the table and glanced through the rest of the cards before tossing them aside, thinking that they were obviously sympathy cards disguised as get well wishes. And the last thing she wanted was sympathy or pity. Aside from the use of her legs again, she wasn’t sure what she did want – but she knew that it wasn’t pity.

She sat facing the large backyard and gardens, but her eyes weren’t on the greenery. She was looking down at her lap: at legs that no longer obeyed her commands, legs that defied the task that they had always performed. She ran her hands up and down them. Nothing. She willed them to move again. But again, nothing.

“Jennifer?”

She looked up to see Jonathan watching her from the doorway, the pizza box and plates in his hands.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Are you all right? You looked a million miles away.”

She looked back down her legs then to the meal in front of her, and she realized that she no longer felt hungry. But she thought that she should try to eat, anyway, if only to please Jonathan.

The depression she’d felt since hearing the diagnosis was beginning to steal over her again, for all that she’d been so happy to leave the hospital and get home. Inwardly, she chastised herself for letting it get to her. She needed to be strong to get through the days ahead – the next several weeks, at least, and, maybe, the rest of her life. 

She’d promised him she wouldn’t dwell on a future possibly changed forever - a bleak one as she saw it, full of losses and hardships - until they knew something for certain. And yet, she faced it every day, every minute she spent in this chair. For her, there was no escaping the very real, very frightening possibility that she might never walk again, or worse, never feel the touch of his hands on her legs, the caress of his fingers on fully half her body, the tickling of his toes playing with hers under the covers on a lazy morning - the kind of playing that would lead to other things she might never feel again. She felt despair rising in her again and struggled to contain her tears, to force her mind away from such thoughts. She took a long, deep breath.

Meeting his eyes briefly, she said, “I’m fine, Jonathan, really. Did you remember the anchovies?” She felt almost guilty saying it, knowing he was trying to be supportive. But for once she didn’t know how to explain to him what she was going through or what she was feeling, and that in itself was troubling.

He’d seen the expression on her face and realized that she had to be thinking about her condition. Since waking up and learning about it, she’d grown increasingly quiet about it and, well, everything else, too, it seemed. He wished that she would open up to him, tell him how she was feeling, but he wouldn’t push her. He recognized that she had some things to work through, and expected that she’d let him in when she was ready. So he gave her a slight smile, trying to hide his disappointment, his own sadness, and let her response, or lack thereof, go. He assured her that he had, indeed, remembered the anchovies as he set the pizza box down and turned back to the kitchen for their iced tea.

“Here you go,” Jonathan said as he took his seat next to her.

Jennifer looked up at her husband and saw the worry in his eyes; she knew how hard he was trying to help make things normal. For his sake, she couldn’t give up. It was only two months. She could last that long, couldn’t she? But somehow she didn’t want him to know how difficult it all was for her, so she forced a smile, and said, “Thanks, Darling – everything’s great.”

After eating a slice of pizza, Jennifer asked “so, did you reach your job candidate?”

“Yeah – I’ll be meeting her at the office in about half an hour. I hate to run, but I’d rather just get this over with and get back home.”

She just nodded. “I hope it goes well.”

“Yeah, we’ll see. I have another candidate I’d like to interview as well.” He paused. “Darling, are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course I’m sure. Besides, I’m getting tired. I’ll probably just go to bed before too long.”

He looked at her steadily, still trying to gauge her words, her emotional state. “All right. I’ll let Melissa know.” He rose, reaching for her hand and leaning down to kiss her cheek before leaving. He paused, his cheek still against hers, his eyes closed, and whispered softly in her ear, “I’ll have a kiss ready for the other side when I get back, okay?”

“That’d be nice,” she said, her voice almost catching. But she just smiled at him and held his hand tightly before letting him go. Neither spoke again as he left the patio to go inside. But both were left feeling somehow bereft, and not fully comprehending why.


	5. Chapter 5

Helpless Hart - Part Five

_Oh, why you look so sad?_ _  
__Tears are in your eyes_ _  
__Come on and come to me, now_ _  
__Don’t be ashamed to cry_ _  
__Let me see you through_ _  
__'Cause I’ve seen the dark side, too_ _  
  
_

_When you’re standing at the crossroads_ _  
__And don’t know which path to choose_ _  
__Let me come along_ _  
__'Cause even if you’re wrong_ _  
__I'll stand by you_ _  
  
_

_And when...when the night falls on you, baby_ _  
__You’re feeling all alone_ _  
__You won’t be on your own_ _  
__I'll stand by you_ _  
  
_

_Take me in, into your darkest hour_ _  
__And I’ll never desert you_ _  
__I'll stand by you_ _  
__I'll stand by you_ _  
__Won’t let nobody hurt you_ _  
__I'll stand by you_   
  


_\- The Pretenders, “I’ll Stand By You”_

*****

“Come on Jennifer, just five more, then we can get to some of the new skills exercises I have for you,” coaxed Justin Narvel, her physical therapist. 

Jennifer just sighed and didn’t bother pretending to try anymore. She knew this type of exercise was important for maintaining muscle tone but, after weeks of therapy, she had yet to regain any feeling below the waist, so she hardly felt she needed to participate. The other exercises, at least, were more applicable to her life; they’d help her regain her lost independence…or so she kept hearing. For now, every day was still a challenge, a constant trial of her will versus a body that no longer followed her commands.

There were obstacles now to everything she did, even simple tasks – bathing, dressing, getting through doorways, sometimes even just answering the phone. It was amazing the abilities, even the little things, she’d so taken for granted before. The limitations placed on her life, on her work, on getting from place to place, and on her relationship with her husband were a constant source of frustration and depression for her. She tried to resist defeatist attitudes and feelings of helplessness, weakness. It made her feel vulnerable, something she definitely wasn’t used to. The fact that the medications she had to take wreaked havoc on already frayed nerves and emotions didn’t help.

Justin noticed the complete absence of concentration in his patient, and gently lowered her legs to the floor and moved to sit next to her.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked casually.

Jennifer looked over at the young man, and felt his disarming smile push past her bad mood. She’d felt comfortable with him from the beginning, appreciating his calm, professional assistance, and had been pleased when he’d been available to come to the house for her physical therapy sessions after she was discharged. She sighed and said, “Every day it’s something new, some new reminder of the things I can’t do, can’t have, and there’s no sign of improvement. Jonathan doesn’t want me to think about that – he tries so to be optimistic – but I can’t say the same, not at this point.”

“Jennifer,” he said sincerely, “Paralysis is a very hard thing to learn to deal with. It takes a very strong person to handle it as well as you are.”

Jennifer just turned her head away and sighed deeply, not sure she was convinced. “Yes, I’m handling it all right, I suppose.”

_But at what cost?_ she thought to herself. For the first time ever, she had to admit that things between her and Jonathan weren’t so good. She could feel the distance between them growing every day; she didn’t like it and knew she was responsible, but still she didn’t seem able to help herself. She just didn’t want him to see her like this, to witness her struggling to do the simplest things, or even simply being anything other than how she’d always been. And she couldn’t bear the thought of him feeling sorry for her. She was afraid her every action to regain her independence was pushing him away, however unintentionally, and she knew it was upsetting him, although he tried not to let it show as he acceded to her every request. She simply felt she had to do this on her own, so she would know for herself exactly what her abilities and her limitations were. She only accepted help from Melissa and Justin because they were professionals. They knew how to assist her objectively, and without pity. 

Jennifer shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She couldn’t think straight anymore, and no longer felt she understood even herself.

“What do you mean?” Justin had asked, and she focused on him again, interrupting her train of thought.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing. Never mind.” But at his silent urging, she just said, “It’s just that this is affecting every part of my life. There’s no escaping it, and I hate it!”

Justin had a pretty good idea what she was going through. “Jennifer, I know this is going to be hard to believe, but what you’re feeling is perfectly normal. You’re a strong, independent woman, I can tell - ”

“I was …” she interjected, a bit morosely.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he said, shaking his finger at her. “You _are_ – that hasn’t changed. Positive thinking, please. I know the feeling of being helpless is difficult, and you might feel as if you're somehow less than what you were before the accident. And since you feel that way, it's only natural for you to think that others might also feel that way.” He watched her expression carefully, and even though she said nothing, he thought he’d surmised correctly what was bothering her. He could see tears beginning to pool in her beautiful hazel eyes, and went on quickly.

“You’re not less, Jennifer. And if other people see you that way, well, it just shows what _they_ know.”

Jennifer didn't look so certain of that. She closed her eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling.

Justin reached out tentatively, wanting to console her. He had seen so many patients struggle with these very issues, over and over again. He prided himself on being a good listener, when needed. But none of his patients had gotten under his skin the way this one had. If he was honest with himself, he had a bit of a crush. But he let his hand drop, suspecting that she would not want or appreciate the contact, and simply went on, “Jennifer, I know things look impossible and hopeless right now, but they're not. Anything is possible as long as you never give up hope.”

Jennifer looked at him again now, somehow amused. “Anything is possible as long as you never give up hope,” she repeated. “That's a pretty wise adage for such a young man. Did you make that up?”

“Nah.” The young man grinned and went on, “I think I may have read it in a fortune cookie.”

His answer made her smile, and she uttered a small laugh. “Well, I suppose it's very wise nonetheless.”

Justin laughed along with his patient, happy his joke had been successful. He got up and moved back to pick up one of Jennifer's legs to continue with the therapy.

“Justin,” Jennifer said, and he paused, looking up at her.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” she said sincerely.

“Any time,” he answered, equally sincere.

*****

“I don't know, Miss Nysedi, according to our estimates there is no way that Sans Corp could produce this much merchandise,” Craig Bauer, an executive member on Hart Industries board of directors, said. “I don't think acquiring them is worth the expense or the risk.”

“It’s _Ms._ Nysedi, not Miss, and you're thinking too small, Mr. Bauer,” replied Cammi Nysedi, the newest executive of Hart Industries. “The Sans Corporation couldn't fill any serious demand on its own, that's why they filed Chapter 11. However, if we were to buy them and rebuild the foundation, I believe Sans Corp could easily match and surpass any competitor. They simply don't have the money, manpower, connections, or the leadership to make the changes I'm suggesting without us.”

Craig Bauer shook his head negatively, “I still don't agree that the risk is a wise one. We can't be assured that these changes will guarantee a profit.”

_How did you ever make it this far being so passive?_ Cammi thought, derisively, before going on.

“There are no guarantees in business,” Cammi shot back as she paced in front of the table filled with board members. “But, not only can I assure you a profit, we'll also be greeted more than favorably for keeping 2200 jobs in the state. Think tax relief.”

“Jonathan?” Craig tossed the discussion to the owner of the company, who sat at the head of the table watching and listening to both sides of the argument.

“How much are we talking about here?” Jonathan asked. “What are your overall calculations on this, Cammi?”

Cammi stepped up to the table and picked up her notes. “I'd say $71 million in. The 71 will cover everything, the entire revamp. You make the changes I'm suggesting and within five years, we'll be looking at 68% profit. So, my best estimate would be, net, 498 a year.”

“And if you're wrong we stand to lose over 70 million dollars,” added James Seaton, another board member who didn't like the new exec's idea.

“498 – _net,_ ” returned Cammi, “with 8 to 5 odds.” The exec turned and locked her blue eyes with those of Jonathan Hart and said, “We can make this work.”

“We can only make it work if we obtain Sans Corporation,” he said.

James Seaton didn't agree. “Jonathan, I don't think this is a very good id-”

“We'll get them,” interrupted Cammi. “I'll make sure of it.”

Jonathan Hart leaned back in his chair, considering his new executive, and rubbed his chin while he thought it over. He’d hired a live one, that much was certain.

After a few moments, he looked up again and spoke. “Cammi, run some best and worst case scenarios, set up a meeting with the owner of Sans Corp, and get back to me. I'll have a look at the projections and then decide.”

Cammi picked up a folder and walked to where the owner of Hart Industries sat. She sat on the edge of the table and smiled sweetly at Jonathan while she passed him the folder.

“Here are your best and your worst case scenarios. Daniel McMillan, the owner and founder of Sans Corporation, is at your disposal. He’ll take any appointment you set up.”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at his newest employee, admiring her preparedness, and her boldness. 

Cammi Nysedi was an imposing figure at 5'10, with natural blonde hair, ice blue eyes, and a figure from the front of a swimsuit magazine. Her style was impeccable and she never had a hair out of place. Her looks were surpassed only by her confidence, and, he suspected, by her intelligence. She was almost _too_ good.

In her short time so far, Cammi Nysedi seemed to be melding easily into the fold at Hart Industries, even if she did occasionally ruffle the feathers of certain board members. Jonathan regarded his board very highly and wasn’t unaware of their issues and concerns with his new executive, but at the same time he wanted to give Cammi a chance to prove herself. Her business sense and knowledge appeared to be very much like his own, although her style was more aggressive. That could prove a boon or a handicap. He wondered idly which it would turn out to be.

Jonathan accepted the folder, saying, “I'll look these over tonight and give you my decision tomorrow.”

Cammi winked at the head of the company as she slid off of the table, pleased to have held her own and, it appeared, impressed the boss. 

*****

Jonathan left the meeting, taking the file back to his office to review. Once seated at his desk, however, he saw the photo of Jennifer he kept there and, as happened a lot these days, had a hard time thinking about anything but her. He hated to admit it, but lately it had been difficult to relate to her, something they’d never had a problem with before, and it bothered him tremendously. He tried using work as a distraction, but with only limited success.

On impulse, he picked up the phone and dialed home, hoping to catch her before her physical therapy session started.

_*Hart residence.*_

“Hello, Melissa. It's Jonathan, can I speak to Jennifer?”

_*I'm sorry Mr. Hart, but Mrs. Hart isn't here. She and Justin left to go for a walk.*_

“A walk? You mean she left the house?” he asked, feeling hopeful that she was pushing her boundaries. She hadn’t left the house much, let alone the grounds of their estate, in the time since she’d gotten home.

Melissa could tell what he was thinking _. *Well, not entirely – they haven’t left the grounds. But Mrs. Hart was upset this morning, and Justin convinced her to go for a walk. Maybe they’re talking things over - Justin is an excellent listener. Perhaps he'll be able to help.*_

“She was upset?” he asked, concerned. “Is everything all right?”

_*She’s fine, Mr. Hart. She was just having a rough time this morning. Don’t worry - Justin has a way with people. I’m sure he’ll be able to get through to her, and she'll be smiling by the time they get back.*_

“Okay, thanks, Melissa. I’ll, ah, be home in a little while,” Jonathan said, beset by an uncomfortable, and increasingly familiar, emotion at this news from Melissa, who meant only to reassure.

_*Would you like me to have Mrs. Hart phone you? They should be back soon.*_

“No - that's okay. I'll just see her at home. Thanks, Melissa.”

_*You're welcome, Mr. Hart.*_

_“Bye now.”_

_*Goodbye.*_

Jonathan returned the phone to its cradle and slumped back in his chair, deflated. He had so wanted to talk to her, to hear the sound of her voice. He knew the paralysis his wife had been stricken with was wearing her down, physically and emotionally. He also knew that Jennifer wasn't doing it intentionally, but she was becoming more and more distant with everyone, including him. She didn’t take many calls from friends, or welcome anyone to visit the house. She insisted he sleep in their room, while she was downstairs alone. She wouldn’t let him help her with, well, anything. She turned to Melissa and Justin for assistance first. More disturbing to him, though, was that she didn’t share her feelings with him, didn’t turn to him for support. She was trying to handle it all by herself, as if to prove that she didn’t need help - or support of any kind. He knew she was a strong and independent woman; it was part of what had most attracted him to her, in the very beginning and every day since. But now it was as if she had to prove it to herself anew. And there appeared to be no room for him in her world right now.

She was retreating into herself - that was what he really didn’t understand. She knew she could trust him with anything, so why was this so different? He paused, berating himself – this _was_ different, vastly different, from anything either of them had ever had to face before. He knew that, and he also knew that he had no frame of reference to understand what she was going through. But why wouldn't she look to him for comfort, at least, rather than act as though she didn’t need it – didn’t need him? But maybe that wasn’t intentional, either. 

It had seemed a blessing when Justin Narvel had been available to continue her physical therapy sessions once she returned home. He was kind and professional, and Jennifer got along well with him. But now he seemed to be the only one who could get her to open up. Jonathan found himself deeply envying, and, if he was honest with himself, resenting the young man. But he tried to let it go, for her sake, knowing how much Justin was helping her learn to function again.

He heard a knock on his door, disrupting any further thoughts. He wiped his hand across his face, filing his emotions away as he answered.

“Come in.”

Deanne entered, looking distraught.

“Ah, Mr. Hart, I need some time off. There’s an emergency back home – I’m not clear what, exactly, but a family friend called, and said I needed to get back as soon as possible.”

“Of course, Deanne – take all the time you need,” Jonathan said, getting up and circling the desk to approach his trusted assistant.

“I have a flight out tonight. I’d like to go home and pack…” she was saying.

“That’s fine. If there’s anything I can do, Deanne, please let me know.”

“Thanks, Mr. Hart. I appreciate it. I know how hectic things are for you right now. I’ll have HR send up a temp before I go,” she said.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Deanne. I’ll have someone call to arrange it. Go take care of yourself and your family.” He squeezed her hand as she nodded, thankful for the millionth time to have such a wonderful boss. She’d had other opportunities, other job offers, but she’d never wanted to leave. She had always felt so at home at Hart Industries, and knew she was a valued and trusted employee. She felt a great deal of loyalty to the company, and to both Mr. and Mrs. Hart.

Jonathan watched as she took her leave, concerned for her. Then he heard another knock on the door, and saw Cammi there. He waved her in as he returned to his desk.

Before she could speak, he said, “Deanne needs to take a leave of absence. Can you call down to HR and arrange for a temp? I don’t know yet how long one will be needed, but I’d rather not wait.”

“Of course,” she said, making a note of it. Then, looking closely at her boss, she asked, “Jonathan, are you all right? You look…off.”

“I am off,” he admitted with a sigh as he sat back in his seat.

“Wanna talk about it? Contrary to rumors, I can listen almost as well as I can talk.”

“Thank you, Cammi, it's nice of you to offer but - ”

“My fiancé was in a wheelchair,” she interrupted him to say, guessing what was bothering her new boss. “He was hit by a drunk driver six years ago, and it left him paralyzed from the neck down.”

“I didn't know that,” Jonathan said. “I'm sorry.”

Cammi smiled her thanks and continued, “I was the only family he had, so it was up to me to help him through a lot of it. It seemed impossible at the time, but we managed.”

Jonathan just looked at her, questions on his mind that he didn’t feel he could ask. And yet, she appeared to be offering to share her story with him. He looked away.

“I thought,” he began, looking back at her. But he stopped and said, “Never mind, I don’t want to pry.”

Catching on, she said, “I said I was single, so you want to know what happened to my fiancé?” 

“Well, yes, among other things," Jonathan answered honestly.

“Jonathan,” Cammi began sincerely, “It's okay, really. I know how difficult it is. I know what it's like to have the fears, the questions, and how hard it is trying to live through the emotions.” The blonde reached across the desk and squeezed her boss's hand. “We've only known each other a short time, but I can tell you're a wonderful man, whom I’d like to consider a friend. So, if there’s anything I can do to help you through this, let me know. I’ll help, even if all that means is simply sharing my story and answering questions."

“Ahh, thanks, Cammi – I’ll consider it,” he said, not certain he wanted to discuss something so personal with her.

She leaned against the desk and said, “Okay then. Think about it. I have an ear and a shoulder to lend you - or anything else you might need.” She paused, wondering if he understood the intent of her offer. He was a fine-looking man, and she knew she had a lot more to offer him than her business sense, if he’d only take notice. She decided then and there to make sure he did, even if it took a little doing. It didn’t usually take so long for men to notice her. Jonathan Hart appeared to be a different breed of man, but he was also apparently in a vulnerable place emotionally, and she was willing to do whatever was necessary to reach her goals. If it took a little more effort, well, she always did enjoy a challenge, and usually got what she wanted. And she had no doubt it would be worth it.

When he only responded with a distracted nod, she went on smoothly, “I’ll just go take care of the temporary replacement for Deanne.” 

He seemed to focus on her again. “Okay, thanks, Cammi. I’ll let you know about Sans Corp tomorrow.” He didn’t look up again as she nodded and left the office.

*****

“Hello,” Jonathan called as he walked through the front door and into the living room. “Anybody home? Jennifer? Melissa?”

“In the kitchen,” came Melissa’s voice, and he made his way toward it.

Just as Jonathan walked through the kitchen door, he saw her walk out the back one, to the patio. “Melissa?”

“I'm just setting up for dinner,” replied the nurse and assistant, “Bring out the glasses on the counter – would you mind?”

Jonathan scooped up the pair of glasses and made his way to the patio, where Melissa already had the table set.

“Where’s Jennifer?” he asked, involuntarily envisioning another long walk with Justin. 

“She's in her room. She should be out soon.” She pulled a small pill container from her pocket and set it beside one of the plates, before moving the extra chairs out of the way. “How are things at Hart Industries?” she asked, trying to make conversation.

“Not even mildly successful at keeping me occupied enough not to worry about Jennifer.” Jonathan held in a sigh as he sat down.

“Well things got better this afternoon, you’ll be glad to know,” Melissa said. “Mrs. Hart came out of physical therapy smiling and even laughing, so Justin must have been able to get through to her somehow.”

“That’s great.” Jonathan ran a hand through his hair, trying to dispel his irrational feelings about the physical therapist. “I'm glad to hear things were good today after all.” He sighed, then went on in a bit of a rush before he could stop himself, while looking down at his hands. “Melissa, can I, ah, ask you a question?”

“Of course, Mr. Hart. What’s on your mind?”

“Jennifer, of course. I don't know what to do anymore. Some days she wants to be alone, other days she doesn’t. But in any case it’s not the same as before. We’re not _us_. And she won't let me do anything to help. I just wish she would let me in.” Jonathan looked up at Melissa then, feeling a little guilty about unloading on her. But he had to ask someone. And someone who might have some professional insight into what was happening with his wife seemed like the best choice. “Why won't she let me help? I just want to be there for her.”

Melissa considered the man before her. She was aware that there were problems between the couple, and, like Justin, she had worked with paraplegic patients before. She had seen both patients and their loved ones struggle to adapt, had seen the stress it put on everyone involved. She had seen marriages come apart, but others made it through the hardest times and were all the stronger for it. She sincerely hoped the Harts would be in the latter group, when all was said and done. After a moment of consideration, she said, “Mr. Hart, have you stopped to consider that perhaps Mrs. Hart is afraid?”

“Afraid?” he asked.

“Yes. She's more afraid than she's ever been in her whole life.”

“She doesn’t need to be. We don’t know that she won’t walk again. And even if she can’t, well, we can get through that.”

Melissa felt mildly exasperated. “She's not afraid of losing her independence, Mr. Hart. She will get that back, no matter how long it takes, and no matter what else happens. She’s afraid of losing _you_.”

Jonathan shook his head. “I'm not going anywhere. Jennifer knows that.”

Melissa pulled out a chair and sat down before going on. “Right now, I think Mrs. Hart sees herself as less than what she was before the accident. It’s as if her whole identity is – or was – based on all of those things she no longer has, and she’s struggling to figure out who she will be, to reinvent her image of herself. And perhaps she's not sure you can love her if that’s different, or somehow less, than it was before.”

He just looked at her, shocked. She couldn’t possibly be thinking that, could she? _She knows me better than that,_ he thought to himself.

Melissa could see from his expression that he didn’t agree. “I’m not saying it’s rational, Mr. Hart. She’s on an emotional rollercoaster, and all of her fears are surfacing, real or not. She’s focused on not showing any weakness, not giving anyone a reason, an opportunity, to pity her. And if she lets you in, if she lets you see her weakness, her handicap, and has to come face to face with everything she thinks is gone, everything that she thinks is lost to her, to both of you, well, it’d be a pretty hard pill to swallow.” Melissa paused, still thinking it through, then reached out to touch his arm as she went on.

“Can you imagine if she looked into your eyes one day and saw, in essence, some kind – _any_ kind - of confirmation that she’s not the same woman you married, found attractive, and loved, exactly as she _was_? How about if she thought she saw regret, or disappointment? What if she came to think she was holding you back in some way? Or, if she were to rely on you for everything, how long would it be before that love seemed to become mere obligation instead?”

Jonathan had just closed his eyes as she went on, his mind reeling from all of the possible implications. “No. My wife knows me. She knows I couldn't …that I would never think that, never feel that way…”

Melissa felt bad, then, for putting him through this. But he needed to understand the difficult emotional issues his wife might be dealing with. She could see how much it all was affecting him, and she wondered how aware of it her patient was. She reached out again to touch his arm. “I’m sure you wouldn't. And, somehow, I’m sure she knows it, too. But right now, every insecurity she has is surfacing, magnified a hundredfold. Isolating herself is a defense mechanism. She's just trying to protect herself, which, I might add, is most likely making her oblivious to a lot.”

“So what can I do?”

“I think all you can do is keep on loving her, no matter what, and trust that this isn't forever,” she replied. “Let her call the shots, so she feels like she has at least that much control over her life. Don't offer to do anything for her that she can, and usually does, do for herself. And don’t make any assumptions about what those things are. Just be there for her, Mr. Hart, and be patient with her. She’ll come around.”

Jonathan just answered, “I hope so.”

She smiled at him and stood to go back into the house. “I'll see if Mrs. Hart is ready for dinner.”

Jonathan just nodded, meeting her gaze, then said, “Melissa? Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Hart.”

*****

The sound of Jennifer's wheels squeaking against the kitchen floor alerted Jonathan to her arrival and he stood as she came through the back door.

“Hi, Darling,” Jonathan said as he went to her and dropped a kiss on her cheek, noting that the long-absent spark in her eyes had returned. “You look wonderful.” He smiled at her and went on. “I hear you had a good day.”

“Well, it didn’t start off that way, but yes, I suppose it got better. How was yours?”

“Long. I missed you, and would much rather have been here with you.”

“Well I missed you, too. But we agreed that we weren’t going to let this impact our lives. You have work to do, and I – well, I have my physical therapy.” She smiled up at him, choosing to overlook the fact that re-learning to do things for herself _was_ a big impact on her life. But she told herself that she could prevent it from being so for him.

Jonathan could guess what she was thinking, but he held his tongue. If she thought she saw the light in his eyes fade a little, she convinced herself it was only because he’d had a long day, and was tired.

Before either could say anything more, the phone rang.

“I'll be right back,” he said, and retreated into the house to get the telephone.

He appeared a moment later and handed the phone to his wife, who raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“It's Marcia.”

Jennifer accepted the phone as Jonathan took his seat at the table.

“Marcia, hi. How are you? … Oh I'm fine. For the most part anyway. Oh, it’s nothing - I’m doing well, really. So what’s up? … Really? You're kidding … Sure, I do, but, I can’t. It’s not a good time, I’m sorry. Thanks for thinking of me – I appreciate it … Yes, I will. Thanks again, Marcia. Goodbye.”

Jonathan watched as she turned off the phone and set it down on the table, glancing down and away from him before looking up with a brave face. As Jennifer’s editor, he could easily guess what Marcia had wanted. It was equally clear to him that Jennifer felt she had to refuse and was trying to hide that she was upset about it. Whatever it was, she had clearly wanted to do it. He wished she had accepted; then she could more truthfully say that her paralysis wasn’t impacting her life. He felt his heart break a little as he watched the light in her eyes grow dim.

“How’s Marcia?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral.

“She’s fine,” Jennifer answered, without looking at him.

“So, what - ”

“Jonathan, I don’t want to talk about it. And anyway it doesn’t matter what she wanted,” she said, knowing what he was going to ask and cutting him off before he could.

He wanted to ask her why. Why it didn’t matter, why she felt she couldn’t do whatever Marcia had offered. But again, he held his tongue, unwilling to push and have her shut down, shut him out again.

She went on, “It doesn’t matter. I can’t - ” but she stopped speaking and set her fork down, looking away again. She’d barely had more than a few bites of her food.

“You know, I’m not so hungry after all. I think I’ll just go to bed.”

“It’s early yet, Darling - would you like watch a movie, or play some gin before bed?” he asked, wanting only to spend time with her, and suddenly realizing with a pang how truly little time they seemed to have together these days. But she demurred, offering up an excuse, just as she did every night. He just watched her go, knowing she wouldn’t want any help, or witnesses. 

When she was through the door, he pushed his own plate away and leaned back, reaching to loosen the tie that suddenly seemed so tight. He sighed deeply, wondering what, if anything, he could have done differently. It might kill him yet, he thought, to not act, to simply stand by and watch as the distance between them grew, as she pushed him away. Surely, he thought, this couldn’t be what she really wanted?

Jennifer had crossed the threshold into the kitchen when she heard him sigh. Her hands paused on the wheels of her chair, but she continued on through the house to her room with a heavy heart. She knew she was hurting him, and that he was holding back, not confronting her. Part of her was relieved. She really didn’t think she could handle a confrontation with him, couldn’t handle truly having to face all that she no longer had with him. She was determined to get it all back – or as much as she could – but felt she had a long way to go on her own first. Her chest felt tight and her throat constricted, but she fought to control her tears as she continued on alone, and he silently honored her request and didn’t follow.

*****

The tall, thick man stood in front of a large picture window, high above New York City. The phone on the office desk drew his attention there and he answered it with a terse, "Yes."

There was a startled pause on the end of the line before the familiar voice finally spoke.

_*Is this Sidney Cambridge's office?*_

Recognizing the voice, the man sobered quickly and said, "Oh, yes it is. Status?"

_*Things are going perfectly*_ the voice purred. _*I have Jonathan Hart exactly where you want him - and soon, very likely where I want him, as well.*_

“Excellent. Then it's time to move on to the next phase. You know what to do.” Cambridge knew that he’d selected the right person for this job – if all went as he planned and hoped, Jonathan Hart would be ruined not only in business, but in his personal life as well. Cambridge loved it when a plan came together.

_*Yes, I'll see to it.*_

_-click-_


	6. Chapter 6

Helpless Hart – Part Six

_Change the colors of the sky,  
And open up to  
The ways you made me feel alive,  
The ways I loved you  
For all the things that never died,  
To make it through the night,  
Love will find you.  
  
_

_The sun is breaking in your eyes  
To start a new day.  
This broken heart can still survive  
With a touch of your grace.  
Shadows fade into the light  
I am by your side,  
Where love will find you.  
  
_

_What about now?  
What about today?  
What if our love never went away?  
What if it's lost behind words we could never find?  
Baby, before it's too late,  
What about now?  
  
_

_\- Chris Daughtry, “What About Now?”_

_*****_

Jonathan didn’t sleep well that night. Once married, he had become so accustomed to his wife’s presence beside him, dependent on it, even, that without her there he felt off-kilter, unbalanced. And now, with her right downstairs, well, it was worse than ever. He hadn’t been able to concentrate on the paperwork he needed to review for the Sans Corporation merger, either, so after a restless night he rose early the next morning, hoping he’d be able to focus a little better at the office. 

He found breakfast for himself, knowing that Jennifer wouldn’t be up yet. She’d never been one to sleep in late, usually, but since getting out of the hospital, her schedule, like everything else, had shifted. He went by her door when he was ready to leave and knocked softly. He paused for a minute but there was no answer, and he had reluctantly let it go and left for the office. But he found it no easier to concentrate there, and kept putting off looking over the merger documents, not feeling he had the concentration required for a careful review. His thoughts returned to Jennifer and their situation, over and over again.

Gina, his new temporary assistant, arrived, and he spent a little time talking with her. She appeared to be a competent secretary, but he would miss Deanne’s valued, seamless assistance. She had developed into much more than a secretary over the years, and whenever she was gone, particularly when it was unexpected, there were always adjustments to be made. He could see that Cammi had taken her task seriously and hired a good temp, and when he and Gina were finished with introductions, he saw that she was waiting outside, having also taken it upon herself to help Gina get organized and instruct her in her duties for the CEO of Hart Industries. Jonathan appreciated her assistance, feeling too distracted to give Gina the low-down himself.

Encouraged by her obvious competence, Jonathan decided to trust his new exec’s ability to manage the Sans Corporation deal, to trust that she had everything under control. So despite the fact that he’d only skimmed the files, he gave her the go-ahead and asked her to keep him apprised of her progress each step of the way.

As Cammi left the office, Gina knocked and entered, handing him a message. He thanked her, then picked up the phone and dialed the number.

_*Hello?*_

“Deanne?”

_*Mr. Hart – thanks for calling back. I’m afraid there was some kind of mistake. There’s no emergency here after all. I can’t understand it.*_

“Well, I’m glad to hear that, Deanne, very glad.”

_*Mr. Hart, since I’m here already, would you mind terribly if I stayed a few days? I know it’s busy there right now, and you’ve got a lot going on. I can come back if you need me, but - *_

“Deanne, that’d be fine. If I recall you haven’t been back east to visit your family in quite a while. You should stay.”

_*Thanks Mr. Hart. I really appreciate it. It has been a while. I’m just so relieved, you know, that nothing’s really wrong.*_

“Me too. Enjoy your visit.”

_*I will. And thanks again, Mr. Hart.*_

“You’re welcome,” Jonathan said with a smile. “Byebye, Deanne.”

_*Bye, Mr. Hart.*_

Jonathan disconnected with a sigh, relieved that everything was okay. Deanne deserved a vacation, even if he’d miss her able assistance.

Next, Jonathan had a meeting with Stanley about the Galaxy Incorporated transition. While he was pleased with their progress, it appeared that he’d have to visit the Galaxy offices in Seattle in person, and sometime soon. He grimaced at the thought, not wanting to leave town just now, but somehow knew that it would be unavoidable. But then the thought of a visit with Bill made the prospect seem a little brighter.

*****

Jennifer sat in her wheelchair out on the patio, near the edge of the grass. It was a typically beautiful California day, and she was looking out at the impressive view that living in the hills of Bel Air afforded them. But her mind wasn’t focused on the view. She hadn’t spoken to Jonathan that morning, and she felt badly about that, and about their argument the night before. She didn’t like being at odds with him. It made her feel unbalanced and even more confused. Besides that, she simply missed him. Just hearing his voice always soothed her, and boosted her spirit. She knew hearing it now would be the balm she needed; then she could try to figure out how she was going to make it up to him.

Jennifer took a deep breath before turning on the phone and dialing the familiar number of Jonathan’s direct line. But the phone didn't ring as usual; instead, she heard a soft click as the call was rerouted, something that never happened with this line.

_*Good morning - Mr. Hart's office. How may I help you?*_

“Can I speak to Mr. Hart, please?” Jennifer asked as she tried to place the foreign voice on the phone. It definitely wasn't Deanne's.

_*I'm sorry, but Mr. Hart is unavailable. May I take a message?*_

“Oh, is he in a meeting?”

_*Yes, I'm sorry.*_

“Well, I really have to speak to him. Please tell him that his wife is on the line.”

_*I'm sorry, Mrs. Hart, but I was given strict orders that he was not to be disturbed, unless there is an emergency, of course. Is this an emergency?*_

Jennifer was beginning to get exasperated; clearly this person didn’t understand how things worked. “No, it's not an emergency, but it _is_ very important that I speak with him. Please just tell him that I'm on the line. He'll take my call, I assure you.” 

_*I'm sorry, ma'am, but I was told that they were not to be disturbed unless the building was on fire and it had reached his office.*_

“They who?”

_*Mr. Hart and Ms. Nysedi.*_

“They're in Mr. Hart's office? And his private line was rerouted, so they wouldn't be disturbed?”

_*That's correct, ma'am. May I take a message?*_

“No.”

_*Very well, have a nice day.*_

Jennifer disconnected the phone, in shock that, for the first time ever, she had failed to reach her husband in his office – when he apparently _was_ there! Only a few people besides her even had that number, and in any case, Jonathan never held meetings he felt couldn’t be interrupted in his office. He used the board room for that, where there were no phones. If that phone rang, he’d know it was her, and would always answer. If he didn’t she could simply call Deanne to find out when or how to reach him. Having a stranger answer had definitely thrown her off. Then she vaguely remembered Jonathan mentioning that Deanne had left town for a family emergency - but that didn’t explain why his private line had been rerouted.

At that moment, she heard Justin and Melissa in the kitchen, right before they appeared on the patio, Justin holding two cups of coffee. Extending one to her, he greeted her and asked her how she was.

She looked up at him, distracted, his presence barely registering in her mind.

“Jennifer?” he said again, stepping closer and peering at her, thinking she looked pale. “Everything okay?”

She just nodded slightly, not trusting her voice. She moved a hand to her temple and tried to rub away the intense ache she could feel coming on.

“Do you mind if we postpone therapy for today, Justin?” she managed to say. “I don’t think I’m up to it.”

“We really shouldn’t lose momentum, Jennifer – you’re making excellent progress,” Justin said, concerned at her increasingly negative attitude.

“Am I?” she said, with a small, bitter laugh. “Somehow it doesn’t seem like it.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Melissa asked kindly, also moving toward her, and suspecting what was going on. She knew the Harts had parted earlier than usual the day before.

Jennifer sighed, not meeting their eyes, and said, “No, I just need to be alone for a while. I’m sorry – I just don’t feel up to it right now.”

They exchanged glances, observing the grip of her fingers on the phone, then nodded, and with a few parting words about rescheduling her therapy for later, left her to herself. 

Jennifer just sat for a moment, silently staring off into space. She couldn’t believe, didn’t want to believe, the direction her thoughts were going. It simply wasn’t possible, was it? She was wracked with doubt and uncertainty, unlike anything she’d ever experienced in her relationship with Jonathan. She thought back, over the time since the accident. She knew he was worried about her, and frustrated that she was keeping him at arm’s length. He’d taken to spending longer days at the office, and while she understood why and was even a little relieved, still it was unusual. Suddenly she recalled another phone call, one that he had received one evening the week before. After answering it, he’d left the room, as if he didn’t want her to overhear. She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but now…she stared down at the phone in her hand, her fingers tightening around the offending object. Without even thinking she raised the phone above her head and threw it to the pavement where it shattered, sending bits of debris all over the patio. She let out a ragged breath, her body shuddering as she allowed pent-up tears of disbelief, anger, and crushing hurt to flow freely. 

*****

When Jonathan got home that evening, Jennifer seemed even more withdrawn than ever. He could tell she was bothered by something, but she wouldn’t say what. They had dinner and watched a movie on television, then parted as usual for bed. He disliked the routine they were falling into; they were talking and interacting less and less with every passing day. But he couldn’t truly know the scope of her struggles, what she went through every day, and, since she didn’t want him there to see it he just stayed silent and tried to be supportive, determined not to rock the boat. He wondered how much her medication was contributing to her moods. He knew some drugs could have a dramatic impact, and decided to do some research into that as soon as he had a chance.

_*****_

A couple of days later, Jonathan knocked softly on his wife’s door early in the morning. She didn’t answer, as usual, and this time he cracked the door open to look in on her, and saw that she was still asleep. She looked peaceful, and his chest felt tight. It seemed they had so little true peace in their lives anymore. He had no ready explanation for their increased estrangement over the last few days. On the surface they continued on, but it was different, and worse than before. They rarely talked about anything of substance, and it felt awkward and somehow unnatural. He had a hard time dealing with it, and felt like he had to walk on tiptoes around her. He took to spending longer days at the office, immersing himself in work despite the fact that he’d planned not to, since hiring Cammi. He sighed. In all of their years together, he had purposely not allowed work to encroach too much on their time together. He knew he was doing so now, but felt he had no other recourse. He had to fill his time and his thoughts with something, and at least there was always enough work to do.

Unlike other days, when he’d let her sleep and wait to see her at breakfast, this time he entered the room and approached her bedside quietly, fairly certain she wouldn’t wake up. Her meds helped her to sleep, which he supposed was a blessing, and she’d never been as light a sleeper as he was. He sat down in the chair next to her bed, elbows balanced on his knees, his hands steepled over his mouth and nose, just looking at her. It used to bring him such joy to watch her sleeping; now it wrenched at his heart, feeling as he did that it was the only truly peaceful time he had with her. He simply sat there for a few minutes, drinking in the sight of her, then stood and leaned down to kiss her forehead, whispering his love for her in her ear. Then he straightened and reluctantly left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

He found Melissa in the kitchen, getting breakfast ready.

“I won’t be having breakfast with Mrs. Hart this morning, Melissa,” he said. “I have an early flight for an out of town meeting today, but I should be back later tonight. I’m not sure what time.”

“Okay, Mr. Hart. Does Mrs. Hart know?”

“Yes, I told her last night.”

“Okay. I’ll remind her when she wakes up.” Melissa knew that her patient, while trying to hide it, wouldn’t like missing him this morning.

“Thanks.” He paused for a moment as if to say something more, but then simply turned to go. She could see his heartache, but she had no more comforting words for him. She knew they’d have to work things out on their own.

_*****_

Once on the plane headed north, he asked the pilot to patch a call through for him, and gave him the number.

After a few rings, the familiar voice of his friend answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, Bill.”

“Valentine! What’s going on? How’s Jennifer?”

“I’m on my way up to Seattle for some business meetings with Galaxy Incorporated. I’ll probably be there all morning. Do you have time for a late lunch?” he asked, cutting to the chase.

Bill noted a peculiar tone in his friend’s voice, and the fact that he hadn’t answered his enquiry about Jennifer. He didn’t hesitate.

“For you, Valentine? Of course.”

“Great. I’ll call you when my meetings are over – want to meet at that Indian place downtown?”

“Yeah, sure. Just say when.”

“I’ll call - I don’t know how exactly long I’ll be tied up.” After a pause, he said, “Thanks, Bill.”

After they hung up, Bill paused, considering the call. Something was up, that much was obvious. His friend was clearly troubled, and he could guess why. Well, that settled it. He’d been on his own long enough to be handy around the kitchen, and decided that they wouldn’t be eating downtown after all. 

_*****_

Later that day, Jonathan sat at the bar at Bill’s house, a scotch on the rocks in his hand. When Bill had picked him up after his meetings ended, he’d barely spoken, uncertain of where to start, or perhaps, exactly what he needed. Bill could see that his friend was deeply troubled, even depressed, and it worried him greatly. So he had filled him in on how things were going in his retirement, and with his son, Peter, and had generally made idle conversation during the ride home and over their late lunch. But now that they were settled with their drinks, Bill got right to the point.

“Enough of that, Jonathan. What’s wrong? You’ve barely strung two sentences together, and I can’t believe you haven’t told me yet how Jennifer is.” 

“She’s fine, Bill. She tells me she’s fine, anyway.” Jonathan met his eyes briefly before looking back down into his glass, and Bill’s concern grew.

Jonathan went on, “I mean, there’s been no change. But otherwise, her health is good….” He hedged some more, uncertain now how to explain, and suddenly feeling overwhelmed, his eyes burning, his throat tightening. At the same time, he realized that it was a relief not to have to be constantly on guard, not to feel as though he had to hide what he was thinking and feeling.

Bill looked at his friend, realizing with a shock that he was barely holding it together. He reached out to grip his arm, and spoke with concern. “Jonathan, tell me what’s going on. I’ve known you for far too long, and I can see there’s something very wrong here. What is it?”

Jonathan was still staring into his glass as if mesmerized, and, having pushed, Bill just waited for him to be ready.

“I think I’m losing her, Bill,” he finally murmured softly.

“What?” Bill was incredulous.

“I can’t explain it. I just, feel it…in the air around us. I don’t know how to deal with it. I can’t - ” he hastily took a drink of scotch, his reddened eyes again rising briefly to meet his friend’s.

Bill saw things in Jonathan’s gaze that unsettled him. He could see the tension increasing, so he took the glass from his hand and set it on the bar.

“Nonsense, Valentine. I’m sorry but that’s just not possible.”

Jonathan looked up at him, stark anguish visible now in his eyes, his expression; he noticed his hands clenching and unclenching and rubbed them together as Bill went on, trying to get Jonathan to make sense, trying to lighten the mood. “I mean, I’ve been trying to entice her away for years and years now, quite unsuccessfully as you well know, and if that didn’t work, well then…”

Jonathan attempted to smile back at him, thankful Bill was trying, but couldn’t really muster one. His brow furrowed, and he raised a hand to his forehead as if it hurt, taking a deep breath then releasing it slowly. “I don’t mean…God, I don’t know what I mean or how to explain, Bill. It’s not as if either of us is going anywhere. But we’re just, not us. We’re, separate, disconnected, in ways we’ve never been before. I don’t know what to do. There doesn’t appear to be anything I _can_ do.” He rubbed his eyes again and reached for his glass, downing the rest of the scotch in one swallow, wincing a little as it burned its way down his throat.

Bill grasped his friend’s arm again, this time standing and indicating they should move to the couch to sit, leaving their glasses on the bar. Once they were there, he said, “Okay, Jonathan, why don’t you start at the beginning?”

So Jonathan took a deep, haggard breath, glad he’d made the trip to Seattle, glad to have had an excuse to visit his longtime friend. They’d served in the Navy together, facing challenges as well as sharing good times, and Bill had always been there for him. He’d been Jonathan’s best man at his wedding, and had been a true and steadfast friend to him and Jennifer ever since. To be able to tell someone – to tell Bill - what had been happening with Jennifer, and what he’d been feeling…well, it was a relief.

When he finished, Bill was quiet for a long moment, taking it all in. Then he said, “Well, Jonathan, there are two things I know, beyond any doubt: first, that Jennifer loves you, as much as you love her, and there’s nothing that could ever change that. And second, that no one knows her better than you do - ”

“It doesn’t feel like it, lately.”

“Well it’s true nonetheless, and you know it. You’ll figure out what to do.”

Jonathan looked up to meet his friend’s eyes for the first time in a while, and felt somewhat heartened by the steadfast conviction he saw there.

“I hope so, Bill, I really do. I’ve tried to do whatever she asks of me, to follow everyone’s advice, but it’s difficult. I just hate feeling so helpless.”

“Damn the professionals – what do they know? Bill paused, considering, then offered the advice only a friend who has your back can give. “Do whatever feels right to you, and for her. You can ignore the rest. That’s _my_ advice,” he said, clasping Jonathan’s shoulder.

Jonathan just sighed, and reached for his friend’s hand. “Thanks, Bill.” 

“You look beat, Jonathan.” He hesitated, then said, “You’re welcome to stay, you know, and fly back in the morning…”

“No, I ah, really should get back. But thanks for the offer.”

Bill understood, and had expected that answer. He could see the warring feelings in Jonathan’s eyes, the torture of wanting to be at home with his wife, while perhaps knowing that it wouldn’t be as he’d wish it to be once he got there.

“Of course, Valentine. And I’m confident that you’ll figure out what to do, for both your sakes.” He paused again, then said, “C’mon, I’ll give you a ride to the airport.”

Jonathan nodded, glad he’d made the trip to Seattle and feeling at least a little better than he had in a while. He still didn’t know how to fix things between him and Jennifer, but surely it wasn’t too late. It couldn’t be. Bill was right – he’d find a way.


	7. Chapter 7

Helpless Hart – Part Seven

_When the rain is blowing in your face_ _  
_ _And the whole world is on your case_ _  
_ _I could offer you a warm embrace_ _  
_ _To make you feel my love_ _  
  
_

_When the evening shadows and the stars appear_ _  
_ _And there is no one there to dry your tears_ _  
_ _I could hold you for a million years_ _  
_ _To make you feel my love_ _  
  
_

_I know you haven't made your mind up yet_ _  
_ _But I would never do you wrong_ _  
_ _I've known it from the moment that we met_ _  
_ _No doubt in my mind where you belong_ _  
  
_

_I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue_ _  
_ _I'd go crawling down the avenue_ _  
_ _No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do_ _  
_ _To make you feel my love_ __  
  


_\- Adele (Bob Dylan), “Make You Feel My Love”_

_*****_

Jennifer was beginning to worry when at last she heard Jonathan’s car coming up the drive. She’d been out of sorts all day, having missed breakfast with him, which she considered to be the best part of the day. Each morning was ‘fresh, with no mistakes in it yet,’ as one of her childhood heroines, Anne Shirley, had said. She and Jonathan could sit together at the kitchen table for breakfast like it was any other day; it was easiest then to overlook the kind of chair she sat in. After a long day of struggling with her therapy, struggling to get even the simplest things done, her emotions were always frayed and by evening, no matter what they did, the chair - the whole damn situation - was infinitely harder to ignore. She dreaded the moment every night when she had to head to bed, knowing that her preparations would take longer than they used to, longer than they should. She also dreaded the look in his eyes as she’d again refuse any assistance from him. It had gotten to the point where she didn’t need to actually say the words anymore. But that didn’t make it any easier to look him in the eye, even when his best poker face was carefully in place. 

She and Melissa were watching a movie when he came in. He greeted Melissa and kissed his wife’s cheek, pausing to ask how her day had been. She murmured that it had been fine, and he didn’t ask her to elaborate. He excused himself to go upstairs and change, and when he came back down the television was off, and Melissa gone to the guest house. He moved to sit in the chair closest to her.

“How was your trip, Darling?” she asked him.

“It was fine. There were several issues to work out with Galaxy, but I think they’re coming along now.”

“Did you see Bill or Peter?”

“Well, I didn’t have time to go by MacDowell, although I’d hoped to. Peter’s working on some interesting new programs. But I did get to see Bill for a late lunch.”

“Well, that’s nice. How is he?”

“He’s good. He sends his love.”

She smiled at that, but then, the now ever-present silence fell over them as they ran out of things to say. He knew it was pointless to ask any more about her day, and he didn’t really want to hear about Justin anyway. He held in a sigh, knowing she would be heading to her room soon, even though in normal times their evening wouldn’t have been over for a while yet. And it would never have resulted in them parting ways. 

Jennifer didn’t want to talk about herself and her struggles. Nor did she desire to hear about the office or Jonathan’s newest executive. When at last she moved to go to bed, he rose, too and followed her, uncertain what he was going to do or say. He stopped at the door, a hand going up to rest on the frame.

“Jennifer - ”

She’d sensed it when he followed her and stopped, her back still toward him. “Jonathan - ” she began, but she stopped speaking, her usual words of denial sticking in her throat as she choked back her emotions.

He could hear the refusal in her voice, as well as see the resigned slump in her shoulders. He approached her and lightly rested his hands on them. She thrilled at his touch, as always, but at the same time felt apprehension make its way up her spine; she was afraid of losing her resolve, her control, and she couldn’t let that happen. “Jonathan - ” she said again, then went on more softly, “I want you to be comfortable, and you can’t be, not here. I can’t be. Please - we’ve been over this,” she ended wearily.

Jonathan had felt her shiver and froze, misinterpreting its meaning. He lifted his hands and backed up a step. “Jennifer, please don’t,” he whispered.

She closed her eyes, still not facing him, not wanting to see the pain she knew was in his. “Jonathan, I’m just not up to it tonight… please….”

Jonathan turned to do her bidding, as he had done every time since bringing her home from the hospital. But then something snapped in him and he couldn’t just go. He turned back, moving in front of her now and leaning down to look her in the face.

His voice was quiet but forceful, as the emotions he’d tried to contain came tumbling out. She saw the pain and anguish in his reddening eyes, and even a hint of anger as well. His face and voice were suffused with negative emotion in ways she’d rarely seen in him before, in all of their years together. What was worse, she knew it was because of her, and directed at her.

“Why, Jennifer? Why are you pushing me away? I don’t understand it. I’ve tried to. I’ve followed everyone’s advice, I’ve given you time, so you can deal with this on your own. I’ve given you the privacy you’ve asked for, every time. Where does it end? I thought we were a team. We help each other - we don’t do, whatever this is that you’re doing…” He paused, another thought coming to him, and he said it without thinking it through first. “The Jennifer I know doesn’t give up, doesn’t give in - ” 

“I’m not giving up - ” she tried to interject, but he was still finishing his thought.

“- and she doesn’t cut me out of the picture, then turn to another man for what should be coming from me!”

Jennifer’s face paled at his accusation, never mind that she had had similar doubts and fears of her own. “That’s ridiculous, Jonathan! I haven’t turned to - ”

“What would you call it, then?” he said, reacting with quiet intensity, but then regretting his overreaction, his jealousy. He paused, turning away for a moment and wiping a hand across his face, shocked at his own words. But it was how he felt, and he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He barely registered her words as she, too, reacted strongly to his outburst, her eyes flashing now in anger as well.

“If I’ve turned to Justin it’s only because he’s had experience helping people in my circumstances. And he’s been there for me, willing to listen. You’re so busy with work these days, always in a meeting or off at some business lunch with that, that Cammi person. I can’t even reach you by phone anymore.”

But he didn’t seem to hear the bitter tone that had crept into her voice. Instead he just went on with a sigh, sounding resigned. “Jennifer, I don’t know what’s happening to us, but I just don’t know if I can take it anymore.”

“What do you mean?” she said, her voice faint as she again felt the blood draining from her face. Was he giving her an ultimatum? 

But he didn’t answer her. He had turned to go, and she looked away. When he paused in the doorway to look back at her, she was looking down, holding her head in her fingers as if it hurt. He left without another word.

She sensed him leaving, the sudden absence of him, and it was as though the room had suddenly turned icy-cold. What had he meant, and where was he going? Would he leave? Surely they hadn’t come to that. She thought he understood that she had to take care of herself first, before she could let anyone else help her. She didn’t know any other way to deal with it, as she struggled to reconcile herself to her new circumstances, and retain even a shred of her former independence. But now she was filled with doubt. Why couldn’t he just go on being patient with her? Didn’t he know how important it was for her to do this her way?

Justin seemed to understand that need for total self-sufficiency. If she had turned to him at all it was because of that understanding, and the fact that he was always challenging her to do what she could for herself. Testing her, pushing her. Having made a career of helping people like her, he understood what she was going through as well as anyone could, she supposed, who wasn’t experiencing it for themselves. As she’d felt the distance between her and Jonathan increasing, he had become her friend, someone who would listen, someone who was impartial. 

She looked up now, wanting to go after him, but something held her back. And in any case, she couldn’t follow him upstairs. She pounded the damn wheelchair with balled fists, tears threatening, but she denied them; she had to be stronger than this. _He couldn’t possibly be thinking of leaving her…could he?_

*****

Angry and hurt, Jonathan had gone upstairs to their room and into the bathroom. He knew he was at some kind of a breaking point, but he didn’t know what to do about it. It felt strange, but he’d had to get away from her, thinking he’d already said too much. He’d let his feelings get the better of him, and had taken it out on her. He had to stop, to think things through. 

He had honored her wishes, allowed her time to adjust, just as she’d asked. He’d listened to everyone say she just needed time and space to work through it on her own before she could let others in. But he was her husband! They’d always taken care of each other, and understood the difference between support and interference. Had she forgotten that, somehow?

He understood that her situation was more difficult than anything she’d ever gone through before, and that she needed to be able to assert her independence, to manage on her own. He knew she didn’t need or want coddling. He didn’t want to do everything for her. He wanted only to be allowed to be there, to help when she asked for help, to support her in whatever way she wished. But she seemed to hide from him instead, all the while accepting help from Justin. Rationally, Jonathan knew perfectly well that Justin’s professional assistance was necessary, and that he was good at it. But she appeared to turn to him for other things, to be a confidante – a role he wanted and believed to be his, a role he needed to fulfill for her. It hurt him beyond compare that she didn’t confide in him anymore. 

He sighed, staring into the mirror and seeing his anger, his grief reflected there. He felt drained, too tired to try to rationalize her view of things anymore. But looking back over their exchange, he began to think that perhaps his outburst had been a good thing and that he didn’t regret it, after all. And that they weren’t finished. He saw that he would have to fight for their future together, their understanding of each other, and knew that if he didn’t act soon, he really could lose her – that they would lose each other. He just couldn’t allow that to happen! Suddenly he realized that he was done listening to everyone else, and, as Bill had said he would, he knew what to do. He took a deep breath, then turned on his heel and made his way back through the bedroom and down the stairs.

When he got to her room, he entered without knocking. She wasn’t there, so he continued to the doorway of the bathroom, where he saw that she was brushing her teeth. It was clearly a struggle; the sink was a little too high and she couldn’t reach it to rinse out her mouth. She used a glass instead, but was clearly frustrated by the process as she threw the toothbrush down and lowered her head to her hands for a moment. He made a mental note about getting the fixtures resized, in the event that she didn’t regain the use of her legs. But damn it, not until then. Not until they knew for sure. 

Finally she wheeled the chair around; she had mastered its manipulation in the past few weeks. She froze when she saw him standing in the doorway. The look on his face was inscrutable, and something about that unnerved and secretly thrilled her. She could tell that something had changed. Clearly, he wasn’t going to let things drop this time. When he spoke, his voice was soft but strong, hiding nothing. The anguish in it was plain and it stabbed at her heart, just as his quiet, unexpected words brought tears, unbidden, to her eyes.

“From the first day we met, Jennifer - the very first day - I knew I wanted to go through life with you by my side, and no one else. I was so happy when I realized it was what you wanted, too. With each passing day that understanding grew and grew, until I began to fear what would happen if the day ever came when I lost you. I’ve known for years now that I couldn’t survive long without you.” His voice hardened with emotion as he went on. “But never, in all of our years together, could I have imagined that I would come to know that very fear, to feel that pain so deeply and intimately, while you were still living. While we are both still very much alive and under the same roof! Because that’s how I feel, Jennifer, that you’re somehow lost to me, or will be soon, and I hardly even know to _what_. I don’t think I can face that pain. Not anymore.”

Again, her heart froze, wondering what he was actually saying as he paused, looking away. She waited, willing him to look at her. When he did, she saw his expression change to one of forceful determination. Then, before she could register what was happening, he had moved behind her and was pushing her chair out into the foyer.

“Jonathan, what are you doing?”

“I can’t live like this any longer.” He paused, his hands on the chair handles, then went on. “I can’t let us continue like this. I’m afraid of what will become of us if I do.”

“Jonathan, what do you mean?” she demanded, although, in her heart, she knew. But she went on, even as she felt control slipping through her fingers. “You’re not making sense. What are we doing out here? Take me back. Can’t we discuss this tomorrow?” There was a hint of anger now, of panic and uncertainty, in her voice.

“No, Darling, we can’t.” He stopped and moved around to the front of her chair, kneeling so he could look into her eyes. His anger seemed to have evaporated, but the anguish, as well as the determination, remained. “I told you we can’t go on living this way. It has to stop, and it will. Now. Tonight.”

“Jonathan, please - ” she began, but he cut her off.

“Please, what? Give up on you? On us? Let the divide between us continue to grow? I can’t do that. I don’t want to do everything for you, Jennifer. I don’t want to prevent you from achieving whatever measure of self-reliance and independence you can find. You should know that!”

“I do know it,” she whispered, but again he simply went on.

“…but I’m no longer willing to just opt out, to sit by and watch as a wall goes up between us. So we’re going to clear the air, and we’re going to work on things _together_ from now on.”

Without another word, he leaned down, picked her up out of the wheelchair and headed toward the stairs.

“Jonathan, wait – what are you doing? I, I’m not - ” but she stopped, afraid to tell him she wasn’t ready, to admit the panic she was feeling as his intentions became clear.

He shifted her weight in his arms, but otherwise didn’t stop, didn’t speak. Feeling overwhelmed and conflicted, Jennifer didn’t know what to do. Clearly she had no control over the situation – just what she disliked about being dependent on others. She and her husband had never struggled for control. From the first they had been equal partners in everything, compromise coming easily; it was as natural as breathing between them. Was she afraid of that dynamic changing? She didn’t know anymore. What she did know, however, even as her trepidation took hold of her, was that it felt good, and right to be in his arms again, and she suddenly wondered how she’d done without him for so long. But as they neared the bedroom, her apprehension returned, and she lowered her head to his shoulder, as if wanting to hide. Her upper body began to shake as she tried to stave off her dread, not fully understanding it and knowing it to be irrational, knowing she belonged right where she now found herself. 

Jonathan noticed her trembling, picking up on her fear, her conflicting emotions. It concerned him, but he only held her closer and kept going. As he reached the top of the stairs and carried her through the bedroom door, she could no longer hold back her tears. 

She only looked up as he gently set her down on the edge of the bed, and she realized how much she’d missed their room – their place. It was a welcome sight despite the growing knot of fear in her belly.

Jonathan knelt down so he could once again look her in the eye, and ran his hands up and down her arms, wanting to reassure her against whatever anxiety she was feeling. But he also needed her to know and accept how he felt things had to be, and spoke softly at last. “If you need to do your own thing during the day, that’s fine – you know I’ll support you in anything, no matter what. But Jennifer, Darling, I have needs, too – I need _you_. And I don’t want to spend any more nights without you.”

He met her gaze steadily now, the poker face long gone, his voice low and husky with emotion, and she saw – really saw - how her self-imposed isolation had had unintended consequences. It had jeopardized her relationship with her husband, and much more than she could have guessed. Her solitary quest for independence had been selfish and self-centered, and she saw that she’d been oblivious to his needs, his anguish, even as he’d conceded to her every wish for privacy – even privacy from him! If their roles had been reversed, could she have borne it so stoically, or for so long? She looked back at him now with regret shining in her eyes.

“Jonathan, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know, Darling.” He took her hands and squeezed them, wanting to assure her that it would be okay again between them, and went on, “Jennifer, please – just trust me, all right? I promise you everything will be okay, no matter how things turn out.” 

The earnest belief in his words, the love in his face heartened her, even as his need to ask made her feel ashamed that he would ever doubt her trust in him. She nodded quickly, tears still in her eyes. “Oh, Jonathan, it was never about that - never. I’m sorry you ever thought it was.”

He simply smiled at her in relief and gave her a small nod of his own, his eyes closing as he again squeezed her hands, bringing them to his lips. Then he stood slowly and disappeared into the dressing room, returning with some pajamas for her. She took them hesitantly, and he went to change into his own and prepare for bed, giving her some time to herself. But when he returned, he saw that she hadn’t moved. Going around to her side of the bed again, he saw that her apprehension was back, the tension in her body quite visible, and, suddenly feeling uncertain, he wondered if he’d made the right move after all.

“Do you want to go back downstairs?” His voice was neutral, accepting, but also somehow weary again and sad, as if he expected an affirmative answer.

But she just shook her head, not looking at him. What could be making her so nervous to be here with him? Kneeling in front of her again, he gently lifted her chin until their eyes met, and while the apprehension was still there, her love for him was clear, too.

“Jennifer, there’s something more – what is it? You need to help me understand what you’re going through. What are you afraid of?”

When she spoke it was barely above a whisper, and he had to strain to hear her.

“Oh, Jonathan, I don’t know…I guess I didn’t want you to see me…like this.” She waved her hand over her lap, to her legs, lying slack and unmoving, looking awkward and ugly now in her view. Tears again pooled in her eyes, but she felt a sense of relief mixing with her trepidation, at having admitted it. Everything would come out into the open now, and there would be no stopping whatever happened next. 

Jonathan had wondered, suspected…and this, he knew, he could deal with. “You mean this?” he asked, deliberately placing his hands on her thighs and allowing himself to caress them. It felt good to touch her, to have even that much physical contact with her again. 

Unable to feel his touch, she had to look down to see his gesture, and simply nodded. The sight of his hands there, and the total lack of any sensation, caused such an incredible yearning in her that she was certain her heart would break. 

“Were you afraid I might see you as incomplete somehow, as less of a woman? As less desirable?” he asked softly.

His eyes held hers for a long moment and then she simply nodded, bowing her head, tears falling as his quick assessment hit the nail on the head. 

He gently lifted her chin again with his fingers, looking into her still tear-filled eyes, and said, “Jennifer, my love, don’t you know that you are more beautiful to me with every passing day? Nothing could ever change that – _nothing_.”

With those few words, Jennifer felt the wall cutting her off from him begin to crack, and a small sob escaped her lips. She needed him so much, and understood now how irrational it had been not to see what was happening, and how destructive it had been for both of them. He reached up to gently brush her tears away, then pulled her into his embrace. She threw her arms around him and they both felt the weight of the past few weeks begin melting away.

“Oh, Jonathan, I’ve missed you so much. I just couldn’t stand the thought of not being able to feel your touch, or to, to make love…it was more than I could bear. It seemed easier, somehow…” she whispered in his ear.

“Easier to avoid it? To avoid me?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry, Jonathan. I guess I’ve been so wrapped up in myself and what I’ve lost – I wasn’t thinking of how it would be affecting you.”

He simply held her closely, whispering again that everything would be okay, as his eyes closed in relief and his arms tightened around her.

“Jonathan?” she said after a while, and he pulled back to look at her, wondering at the questioning tone in her voice. But he saw no doubt or hesitation clouding her eyes now, and with her next words, the rest of the wall came tumbling down.

“Ah, now that you’ve got me captive up here, would you mind very much…helping me into these?” she asked with a somewhat shy smile, holding up the pajamas.

That one question, that first request for his assistance, ended any doubts he might have had that he’d made the wrong move in forcing the issue. As he gazed into her eyes, he saw her vulnerability, but also her willingness to once again trust herself to him. He also understood how significant, how important, his response would be. Impulsively, he squeezed her legs and leaned in to give her another kiss. He reached for the garments, enfolding her hands in his and maintaining eye contact with her as he nodded.

“Can you hold yourself up for me?”

“Mhmm,” she said, pushing herself up on her hands, her eyes never leaving him. As she did so, he unfastened her pants and slid them down over her legs, caressing her as he went, despite knowing that she couldn’t feel it. But she could see the caring and gentleness in his motions, his touch, repeated as he slid her soft pajama bottoms on. As she raised her hips again for him, on arms made stronger from such movements, he finished the job and let his hands linger there at her hips.

“Can you feel this?” he asked, never taking his gaze from hers.

She closed her eyes and shook her head with a small frown, and he moved his hands slowly up under the hem of her blouse, asking her to tell him when she could feel something.

“There,” she whispered, when the light touch of his fingers at last gave her a thrilling, tingling sensation. She took an uneven, ragged breath, amazed at her deeply emotional as well as physical response to his caress. She understood at last how much she’d needed it, even as it caused another wave of grief to wash over her.

“Okay,” he responded, memorizing the spot and letting his hands linger a moment longer before withdrawing them and moving to unbutton her blouse. She watched his face as he did so, mesmerized. When he finished with the buttons, he pushed her blouse off of her shoulders. It fell away as his hands moved lightly, lovingly over the silky skin of her shoulders, then down her back. She shivered, her eyes closing, and this time he smiled at her reaction.

Glancing at her as if for permission, Jonathan ran his hands up her sides again until they reached her breasts, where they paused as he passed his thumbs softly over the lacy fabric of her brassiere, then he lowered his lips to kiss the soft swell of her bosom. She raised her hands to his head, running her fingers through his hair in a loving caress. Her eyes closing, she lowered her cheek to rest lightly against the top of his head, then turned to kiss his hair. 

He looked up and met her eyes for a long moment, his heart aching with relief and joy at her gentle touch. Then, reaching for her wrists, he unbuttoned her sleeves and pulled her blouse the rest of the way off. Moving to sit beside her, his hands went to caress her face as he leaned in to kiss her. His lips lingered on hers as he ran his hands gently through her hair and down her shoulders, then reached unerringly for the closure of her bra and unhooked it. He broke the kiss, then sat back and slid the bra off her arms. His expression was openly admiring as he took in the beautiful form of her body, still perfect after all these years. Unable to resist, he bent his head now to kiss her neck, intending to start there and leave a trail of kisses all over her to let her know how very desirable she still was to him.

But even as her head fell back to allow him access, he sensed her rapid pulse, her pounding heart and somewhat ragged breathing, and paused to look at her again. Her eyes spoke volumes – he saw her desire and rejoiced in it, but he also saw apprehension again, and, he thought, a touch of fear…and he knew it was time to stop. In truth, neither was ready to acknowledge whatever might not be possible between them. So he ran a finger along the edge of her cheek and softly kissed her lips once more. After reluctantly ending the kiss, he found the pajama top and helped her put it on.

Jennifer was completely overwhelmed by his caring attention, and all of her negative emotions were washed away. His every action only reaffirmed his love for her, his belief in her, his undeniable attraction to her – all the things she’d needed to hear but somehow had been unable to voice. She knew again beyond any doubt that she was still beautiful in his eyes, and his reaction to her handicap was one of loving acceptance, not revulsion and rejection, or disappointment. And yet she was still uncertain how far they could go. The understanding of what was lost to her, to them, was still too fresh, too raw, for her to want to test the limits. He had recognized even that, and backed off. He had given her exactly what she needed, and as much as she could handle, despite everything she’d put him through over the past few weeks. She didn’t think she had ever loved him more.

She was brought out of her reverie when he asked softly, “Are you okay, Darling? Ready to go to sleep?” She simply nodded with a smile, taking a deep breath. Again he looked to her for permission; receiving it, he pulled the covers further back and lifted her legs up and onto the bed. She lay back against the pillow as he drew the covers over her, then went to his side of the bed.

Joining her, he positioned himself on his side where he could see her easily. She looked over at him and he moved closer, indicating that she should turn on her side. She struggled a bit to get her body where she wanted it, but succeeded, and he put his arms around her, pulling her back to rest against his chest as he spooned her body. She relaxed against him with a sigh, feeling infinitely happier and more positive, more at home, than she had since returning from the hospital.

“Jennifer,” he whispered in her ear, “I love you so much. Please, don’t ever forget it.”

“I won’t.” She turned her head so she could see him and reached up to caress his face. “I’ve loved you since that first day, too, and I never stopped,” she said softly. “I’m sorry if you ever doubted it.”

“I didn’t, not really. I was just, worried.” He reached to move her hair aside so he could nuzzle her neck and kiss her in that tender spot below her ear, then wrapped his arms securely around her again. “How do you feel now, Darling?”

“Like I’m finally home,” she answered. She wrapped her arms around his, snuggling closer within his embrace.

“Thanks for hearing me, Darling.” He kissed her head again, and then a comfortable, loving silence fell between them as they lay there just holding each other. Within minutes they had drifted into their first peaceful slumber together in weeks.


	8. Chapter 8

Helpless Hart – Part Eight

_Everybody's looking for a something_ _  
_ _one thing that makes it all complete…_ _  
  
_ _Well for me it's waking up beside you_ _  
_ _to watch the sun rise on your face_ _  
_ _To know that I can say I love you_ _  
_ _at any given time or place_ _  
  
_ _It's little things that only I know_ _  
_ _those are the things that make you mine_ _  
_ _And it's like flying without wings_ _  
_ _‘cause you're my special thing_ _  
  
_ _You’re the place my life begins_ _  
_ _You'll be where it ends_ _  
_ _and that's the joy you bring_ _  
_ _I'm flying without wings_ __  
  
_\- Westlife, “Flying Without Wings”_

_*****_

Jennifer lay facing her husband, who still slept soundly beside her. They had shifted positions in the night. He’d rolled over onto his back, though his fingers remained lightly entwined with hers. Upon waking she’d turned over as well to her side, so she could prop her head on one arm and just watch him sleep, and revel in being back at his side, amazed at how much things could change in just one night. It was early morning and she didn’t want to wake him just yet; light sleeper and early riser that he was, it was rare that she had an opportunity to simply watch him sleep. She always enjoyed the chance to turn the tables on him, to drink in the details of his handsome profile, the glimpse of chest hair in the vee of his pajama top - it was all she could do now not to reach out and touch it. But she resisted, wishing him as much rest as he could get. 

Suddenly the phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. She sat up and scooted her body as close to him as she could get, reaching across him toward the nightstand, but it was just too far out of her reach.

Jonathan stirred, and while she’d have preferred not to disturb him, it was done now, anyway, so she whispered softy, “Darling, hand me the phone.” He complied, reaching blindly for it, still mostly asleep.

“Hello?” she said, stifling a yawn of her own and remaining next to his side. She couldn’t resist reaching over now and running her fingers gently through the hair that had fallen across his forehead, then along his cheek and jawline and on to his chest. She smiled as his hand came up to find hers and brought her palm to his lips, never once opening his eyes. She barely heard the voice coming through the receiver.

“Hiya, Beautiful! Did I wake you?” the familiar voice said.

Jennifer couldn’t help smiling as the voice registered and she recognized the caller. “Oh, hi – no, no, you didn’t wake me.”

“Well, good – I wasn’t sure what your schedule was like these days, and didn’t want to call too early.” He paused, not sure how to begin what he needed to say. “I, ah, tried Jonathan at the office, but - ”

“Jonathan? Oh, well he isn’t at the office yet. In fact, he isn’t even out of bed yet.”

His eyes now still resolutely closed, Jonathan just shook his head, almost resenting being interrupted by what he’d assume was a business call but for the familiar way she was speaking. She nudged him and held out the phone with a smile, saying, “I know you’re awake, Darling – it’s okay, it’s just Bill.”

Overhearing her comment, Bill was distracted from his purpose in calling.

“Bill, what do you want and why are you calling so early?” Jonathan mumbled into the phone.

Bill could hear from his voice that, despite sounding only half-awake, Jonathan’s spirits had to be much improved and so he jibed right back, “Well, now, Valentine, if I’d have known things would be back to normal so quickly I wouldn’t have called ‘til later, but…” He paused, then went on more soberly, knowing what he had to say was too important to wait. “Listen, Jonathan, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I called with news. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re at home.”

“What do you mean?” Jonathan asked absently, hearing confusion in Bill’s voice.

“Well, I tried you at the office and they said you weren’t to be disturbed, so I was calling Jennifer to - but never mind about that, I’m just glad I reached you. Peter came by first thing this morning with some results from those tests we ran on the device found in your plane.”

Having just seen him the day before, Jonathan had been only half-listening to his friend. He’d pulled Jennifer over to rest on his chest and was more focused on her than catching up on whatever news Bill had. But this last comment caught his attention, and suddenly he was wide awake.

“Wait a minute, Bill - what?” Jennifer felt his body tense a little, and looked up inquiringly. He waved to her to wait a moment, intent now on what Bill was saying.

“I said Peter came by and we have some results back about the plane. I was sure you’d want to know as soon as possible….” Bill went on to give Jonathan the brief report of the tests he and Peter had run on their crashed plane.

Jonathan listened intently as Bill explained what they’d found out, recalling that when he’d spoken to him the week before, it had been clear to Bill that the plane had been tampered with in some way. Now, apparently, they had proof. Jonathan felt his ire building as he contemplated the fact that whoever had done this was indirectly responsible for Jennifer’s paralysis, never mind the attempt on their lives. Whoever it was, they hadn’t done a good enough job; they apparently hadn’t counted on his skill with a plane. But it had been enough to put them into the path of that bear, and the rocks. And for that, he wanted someone to pay. But he brought his attention back to what Bill was explaining, about the materials the small device that shorted out their engine was made of.

“ – only come from a few places – are you listening, Jonathan?”

“Ah, yes, Bill, I am. Only a few manufacturers, you say?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty new technology – quite advanced, and not really out on the market yet. Easy to track, actually, if you know what you’ve got. Which, fortunately, now we do.”

“So, where did it come from?”

“I still don’t know that part – we only just got the report on what it’s made of. We know there are only a few companies turning out this material. Now we need to find out who’s using it, and to do what. We’ll narrow down the list and get back to you.”

“Okay, Bill. Thanks - we really appreciate everything you’re doing.”

“Well, sure, Jonathan. What’re friends for? Oh, and ah, for what it’s worth, this is one time when I’m very happy to be able to say I told you so. I knew you’d figure things out.”

The smile returned to Jonathan’s face and he looked into Jennifer’s eyes again. “Yes - yes we did. Thanks, Bill, I owe you one. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay…”

“Good-bye, Bill,” he heard Jennifer’s voice calling as the line was disconnected.

Jonathan turned his attention to his wife then, taking a moment to simply rejoice in her presence again beside him in their bed. “Good morning, Darling,” he said, greeting her with a kiss.

“Good morning,” she replied, smiling back at him, before the questioning look returned to her eyes and reminded him about the issue at hand. She propped herself up on his chest as he frowned slightly in thought, knowing it was time to bring her up to speed.

“What is it, Jonathan?”

“Darling, do you remember that night by the campfire, when I said it seemed strange that both our engine and our radio had gone out at the same time?”

“Yes, I do,” she replied, her eyes narrowing now at this unexpected topic. She’d been so preoccupied with her therapy and everything else that she hadn’t thought about it since.

“Well, turns out it was no coincidence.”

He watched as she took that statement in, piecing together what must have happened. “I haven’t thought about any of that, really, since then. But why didn’t you tell me you had Bill check out the plane?”

“We talked about it when he was here before, and, I just didn’t want to worry you, if it turned out to be nothing. Then after Bill called last week, well, you’ve had enough to worry about. And, I wanted details. Now we’re getting them.”

She nodded and said nothing, understanding and simply accepting his explanation. She thought about the phone call he’d taken the week before, realizing now that it must have been the one from Bill, but it didn’t matter anymore. Given the circumstances of their strained relationship and her own reluctance to share, she knew she couldn’t blame him for not telling her sooner. She recognized that, as always, he was only watching out for her best interests. 

Jonathan began mulling over what they’d learned from Bill, going over the conversation in his mind. Suddenly his thoughts settled on that first strange comment of Bill’s, about trying to reach him at the office. The results from the tests had taken priority at the time, but the comment had lurked in the corner of his mind, and now came to the forefront again. Then another comment, this one from Jennifer, came back to his mind. Hadn’t she said something, too, about not being able to reach him in his office? His perplexed look caused Jennifer to again prompt him about what was on his mind.

Answering her, he said, “It’s just that Bill said something at the beginning of the call that was odd.” He looked down at her, nestled against his chest, idly running her hand across it in a gesture that was simultaneously soothing and arousing. He likewise caressed her back as he went on to ask, “Darling, did you, ah, say something last night about not being able to reach me at the office?” She looked up at him, her hand pausing in its caress, and he saw a cloud pass over her eyes as she answered.

“Yes, I did. I felt badly about our argument after talking to Marcia, and I missed having breakfast with you the next morning, so I called. But you didn’t answer - the line clicked over and was answered by someone else, I guessed it was Gina.”

Jonathan remembered that morning, and realized that the heightened disconnect between them had begun in earnest that day after Marcia had called. And he could tell now that she was holding something back.

“Go on, Darling.”

She raised her eyes to meet his, remembering the hurt that phone call had caused, but feeling a bit foolish now for ever thinking it. She didn’t want to admit it, but he was looking seriously into her eyes and she could tell it was important, so she continued.

“She, ah, said you’d left instructions you weren’t to be disturbed.” A hint of anger and frustration crossed her face now. “She simply refused to put my call through! And…”

Seeing her hesitate again, he said, “What else?”

“She said you were in there with your new executive and were not to be disturbed unless the building was on fire, or something like that…”

He could see the hurt in her eyes, and she could likewise see the surprise, quickly followed by anger, that this news caused him. He hugged her to him, then backed her away enough to look into her eyes. “I assure you, Darling – I did _not_ give any such order and I certainly did not request that my private line be rerouted. You know I’m available to you at any time, for any reason. I’m so sorry this happened, and I will get to the bottom of it.”

Jennifer knew that tone of voice, having heard it many times before. It was the same one he’d used the night before, and she found it as thrilling now as she had then. She knew that he’d take care of this new problem in short order.

Something, a hunch, made him ask, “What can you tell me about the woman who answered?”

“Oh, I don’t know anymore, Jonathan - ”

“Think, Darling - I don’t know why, but it could be important.” She searched his eyes, wondering what he suspected.

“Well, she wasn’t old. She sounded…competent, confident…. Why? Where are you going with this?” she asked.

“I’m not sure, but whatever it is, I don’t think I’m going to like it.” He frowned, then reached for the phone. When his friend answered he launched right into his question.

“Hello Bill? It’s Jonathan. I need to know what you meant when you said you were surprised that I was home.”

Bill was confused by this sudden question, not thinking it was a big deal, but he also knew there had to be a reason for it. “Well, I called you at Hart Industries and was informed that you were in your office but not to be disturbed. The funny thing is I thought I’d called your private line…”

“You did?”

“I believe so. I didn’t know you’d had your private line forwarded, that’s all. Took me by surprise. Especially since it wasn’t Deanne who answered.”

“She’s been out of town,” Jonathan said. “Who answered? What did she sound like?”

“Well, I don’t know. It was a woman -- I assume it was a temp, then? Just what are you getting at, Jonathan?”

“Just answer the question, Bill. I’m not sure yet myself. Just tell me what she sounded like – young, old, that kind of thing.”

“Well, young – not young like a kid, though, but definitely not old.” Bill had no idea what his friend was after; nor did Jennifer, or even Jonathan himself. Bill thought about it and went on, “she, ah, had a kind of low voice, in the alto range, I’d guess. Kind of sultry now that I think back on it. What’s this all about, Jonathan?”

It was enough of a description for Jonathan to know he wasn’t referring to Gina, the temp; the description was a better match for Cammi Nysedi. He closed his eyes, his mind struggling to comprehend what was going on in his office. Why would someone forward the phone without consulting him? However it had happened, it had contributed to the rift between him and Jennifer. He was relieved that that rift was healing. He wanted to fix this quickly so he could focus on the other, larger issue at hand - the issue of why someone would want to sabotage their plane.

“I don’t know yet. I didn’t forward the line, but I’ll figure out who did. Thanks, Bill. We’ll talk later.”

“Okay, Valentine.”

They said goodbye and disconnected, and he dialed another number: his own private line at Hart Industries, and was only somewhat surprised to recognize the voice that answered – that of his newest Hart Industries executive. He hung up without speaking, looking thoughtfully at Jennifer as he did so, a frown appearing on his face as he considered the implications. There were several possible answers to the phone question, including the perhaps most likely one of an overzealous new employee. He _had_ given her the task of finding Deanne’s temporary replacement, and this could simply have been one of the steps she’d taken to manage his interruptions in the meantime. She wouldn’t necessarily have been familiar with the handling of his private line. 

On the other hand, he mused, perhaps it was otherwise; he couldn’t be sure, but something seemed strangely off – at least in retrospect. But what would his private phone line have to do with anything, unless…unless the intention had been to cause problems at home. Was he paranoid to suspect her of anything other than trying to take on the role of his right-hand assistant? He sighed; there had been enough revelations that morning, and now he had a niggling feeling in the back of his mind, some hunch that wouldn’t quite make itself known. Too much seemed to be going on all of a sudden. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

“What’s going on?” Jennifer asked. “Who was it?”

“It was Cammi Nysedi.”

“Your new executive? Hmm.” She didn’t know what to say to that, never having met her. So instead she asked, “How has she been doing so far?”

“Well, fine, I guess. She’s been terrific - competent, a real go-getter…and yet, I don’t know -- there’s something about her…I’m still not sure what it is.” He paused, thinking, then said, “I’m sorry, Darling - I wanted to take it easy with you this morning, but I think I’d better go in to the office and get to the bottom of this.”

“Okay. I have plenty to do as well, seeing as my living arrangements are changing again,” she said with a smile. “Before you get going, though, can you give me a lift down the stairs?” He nodded, as if only then remembering their situation, and rose to put his robe on, then made his way around to her side of the bed where she’d scooted herself over to meet him.

As they descended the stairs, Melissa came out from the kitchen, a smile on her face. She’d been well pleased to note the empty chair in the foyer when she’d come in that morning, as well as the empty room. She could see from her patient’s glowing face that things were definitely on the path to being right between them again.

“Good morning! I can have breakfast for you two whenever you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Melissa,” Jonathan said as he carefully deposited his wife in her chair. “Twenty minutes?” he asked her. She nodded in agreement, then he kissed her cheek and headed back upstairs. She looked after him, a pleased expression on her face, then turned to wheel herself into her temporary room for, she hoped, the last time. She was pleased to feel no more trepidation about her husband seeing her struggle with her condition. She supposed she’d always known better than to fear his reaction to it, and that sense had been confirmed the night before. She wouldn’t hide from him any longer.

When Jonathan reappeared downstairs, Jennifer was still in her pajamas and robe, but sitting at the kitchen table waiting for him. She and Melissa were deep in discussion about her move out of the guest room. Melissa would take care of moving her personal things and any equipment she might need. Really, the only other need they could see was for a lightweight wheelchair for her to use exclusively in their bedroom suite. Jonathan agreed to pick it up that afternoon, and, after a quick bite to eat, he stood up to go.

Leaning close to her, he whispered in her ear. “Let’s keep this morning’s many revelations between us until we know more, all right?”

She nodded slightly as he kissed the side of her head, her hand coming to rest lightly on his arm. He moved to kiss her lips then and said, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” she answered, smiling at him and watching him go. But for Justin’s expected arrival later that morning, she could almost have forgotten what her day held in store for her. But she felt more equal to the task now, and more hopeful of what the future held, regardless of her physical condition.

_*****_

As Jonathan arrived at Hart Industries, he encountered Gina in the lobby.

“Gina, how are you today? You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Well, yes, Mr. Hart – Deanne returned today. I’m on my way back to the temp agency.”

Following a gut instinct, he calculated how long Deanne was likely to have been at her desk and said, “Actually, I find I’m still in need of your services. Can you come back up to my office in about five, ten minutes?”

“Of course, Mr. Hart.” Gina was pleased to get an extension – she enjoyed working for Mr. Hart and envied Deanne her job and her boss.

“Great - thanks, Gina. Just resume your duties, if you don’t mind, and ah, please don’t mention Deanne’s return to anyone just yet. They’d likely mob her with requests and I have a particular assignment for her today.”

She nodded, feeling a flush come to her cheeks when he smiled at her and hoping he wouldn’t notice. She was relieved when he didn’t appear to, as he turned to go on his way to the elevator.

Upon arriving, he ushered Deanne quickly into his office and closed the door. He’d decided to see what he could learn before changing the phone lines and letting Cammi know that he knew. Maintaining the status quo seemed to be the best way to proceed for the time being.

“How many people have you seen this morning, Deanne? Oh, I’m sorry - it’s good to have you back. Did you have a good trip?”

“Yes, Mr. Hart, it was fine, and I’m glad to be back - and I haven’t really seen anyone yet. Why? What’s going on? And how is Mrs. Hart?” she asked, a bit perplexed at his attitude and rather strange way of greeting her on her first day back.

“She’s doing well, Deanne, thanks for asking. You haven’t seen Ms. Nysedi?” He seemed rather intent on that point in particular.

“No, not since before I left…”

“Good. I can’t really explain what’s going on yet, Deanne, as I’m not sure myself. But I need things to remain unchanged around here for a little while longer. I saw Gina in the lobby and she’ll be back in a few minutes - I need it to appear as if you’re still not back yet.”

“Okay, Mr. Hart - whatever you say.” 

Jonathan hesitated over his next question, knowing better, but he also knew it was important so he went ahead and asked. “Deanne, did you by chance request that my private line be forwarded anywhere before you left?”

“Of course not, Mr. Hart! I would never have - ”

“It’s okay, Deanne, I was sure you hadn’t, but I had to ask. Something’s going on and I need to get to the bottom of it. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”

“Okay, Mr. Hart. Do you want me to inquire about the phone?”

“Well, not yet - I’ll let you know when. But not a word to anyone, all right?” She just nodded, musing that things were never dull at Hart Industries.

“Okay, Deanne, thanks very much, and welcome back, but I need you to enjoy another day off - in fact, don’t come in until I call.”

Now this was getting even stranger, but she agreed, also promising to call him at home, not the office, if she needed anything. As far as anyone at Hart Industries was to know, she was still out east visiting family. She left then, quickly and discreetly heading for the stairs rather than the elevator, still a bit perplexed but knowing he must have good reason for all the subterfuge.

A few minutes later, Jonathan was pleased to find Gina had returned to the desk outside his office, and told her to expect to keep coming back until further notice; her assignment with Hart Industries would not be completed until he personally indicated otherwise. She was happy enough with that determination, having enjoyed the time she’d been there so far. Maybe she should inquire about permanent jobs with the company. It couldn’t hurt, anyway.

Jonathan asked Gina to call Cammi Nysedi in, wanting a chance to talk to her and observe her more closely before he left for the day. When she arrived, he asked her for a progress report on the Sans Corp deal. 

As they were finishing their meeting, Cammi paused and then leaned over the desk toward him in an overly familiar way, he thought, while suddenly realizing she had done so at least once before. 

“Jonathan, you look preoccupied again. Is everything okay at home? Is there anything I can do?”

He looked at her, thinking back to that previous conversation. He’d been too worried about Jennifer at the time to focus on the details, or for their implications to register. He looked at her steadily now, poker face in place as he responded. He paid close attention to the details this time around, interested to see where the conversation might lead.

“Things are about the same…I’ve hardly known what to say or do.” He left it at that, and watched her closely.

“Well, as I said before, I’ve been there and would be glad to share my insights with you sometime.”

“I appreciate that, Cammi.”

“How about today over lunch?” she pressed. “It can really nag at you if you let it.” When he didn’t respond right away, she went on smoothly, “I can see that you’re a private man, and I respect that. But sometimes the best thing to do is to confide in someone who’s been where you are right now. And I meant what I said before, whatever you need – anything at all – you have only to let me know.”

She took the liberty then of reaching over and squeezing his hand, the extent of her offer implicit in her words and her almost lingering touch. This time, it registered loud and clear, and he considered her for a moment. He had no doubt now what she was offering. So, perhaps it was something personal, after all, and not simply the actions of an eager executive. He supposed he should have seen it. She was an ambitious woman, and in more ways than one, apparently. Rerouting the phone could have been the first step in trying to divide him from his wife. Jonathan’s gut told him that it had been, and he found himself growing irate. Did she think it could be that simple, that easy to lure him away? But he pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind and offered her a smile as he answered.

“Well, Cammi, I certainly appreciate the offer, but I have a string of meetings to get to. Perhaps we can make it dinner sometime instead?” He left his counter-offer hanging in the air, and he could tell she’d taken the bait.

“Oh, well, that would be nice…but don’t you need to be home in the evening? I’m sure your wife needs you….”

Drawing on some of his frustration of the past few weeks, so recently banished, he looked away, not wanting his eyes to give away the truth as he said, “My wife finds she doesn’t need me for much of anything, actually. I’m sure I can get away. How about Thursday?”

Cammi practically beamed in assumed triumph before quickly muting her reaction to one of sympathy, reaching over to hold his hand again. He squeezed back in return, catching himself before his grip got too tight, or his poker face failed him in his anger. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Jonathan, I really am,” she said. “You can tell me all about it at dinner. Hopefully I can be of some help to you.”

“I’d certainly be grateful for any advice you can offer,” he said, then let go of her hand and turned businesslike again. “Thanks for the merger update, but I do need to go.”

“Of course.”

“See you on Thursday then.”

“I look forward to it,” she said before leaving his office, smiling to herself in satisfaction at how the meeting had unexpectedly furthered her aim of finally capturing the man’s attentions. She’d grown rather frustrated as the days had passed without even a glance from him in her direction. Nothing she’d done to attract his favor - beyond work, anyway - had been effective. Well, maybe it had been. He was discreet, clearly. Or perhaps he was simply growing more desperate, being, after all, just a man. She decided not to doubt the effect she knew she had on the poor creatures -- no other explanation was really necessary, as far as she was concerned. She turned her mind to planning how to handle him come Thursday night.

Jonathan leaned back in his chair and allowed his anger to surface now that she was gone. He had no doubt of her intentions now, and couldn’t believe he’d missed it before. But he knew the answer to that. In any case he didn’t usually have to deal much with the advances of women. Jennifer’s presence was usually enough, and most saw very quickly that he was hopelessly, eternally devoted to his wife. The fact that Cammi hadn’t figured that out, or somehow thought she could find a way to circumvent that devotion and get into his heart - or, perhaps, at least his bed - rather infuriated him. The assumption that he’d find her more appealing, more attractive, more…anything, than his handicapped wife, that he might so easily toss her aside…yes, he found it absolutely did infuriate him.

With a sigh, he marshaled his emotions and filed them away, along with the details of the meeting, to be discussed later with Jennifer. He needed to go pick up the new chair and intended to spend the rest of the day at home with his wife, helping her get settled back into their room and doing whatever else she needed or desired.

_*****_

Jennifer had had a busy morning as well. Melissa had taken the majority of her belongings back upstairs; all that remained was for Jennifer to organize it all to suit herself, once Jonathan returned with her new chair. She decided to send the hospital bed back, but continue to use the downstairs room for her physical therapy sessions with Justin. The physical therapist had been happy to understand that she and her husband had reconnected, knowing that it was an important step in her overall recovery. But it also meant it was time for a change in her need for his services, and a part of him regretted that. He admitted to himself that he’d miss this particular patient a good deal more than most.

When Jonathan returned home, he found Jennifer discussing her future therapy needs with Justin and Melissa.

“Hi, Darling. You’re back early.”

Jonathan leaned down to give her a kiss and answered her as he sat down on the couch next to her chair. “Yes, well, I got everything done there that I could, for the day. How’s everything going here?”

“It’s good - we were discussing my therapy…” she smiled at him then looked down, suddenly feeling shy about the actual topic at hand.

Seeing that his patient was perhaps a bit flustered, Justin chimed in. “It’s time that I was getting back to a more regular schedule at the hospital. But I can still come a few times a week to assist Mrs. Hart with her occupational therapy.”

Jonathan looked from Justin to his wife, still cognizant of her all too recent desire for privacy and autonomy when it came to the daily routine of her recovery. “Will you be able to do the rest on your own, Darling?” he asked her.

“Well…actually, I was hoping you might be interested in helping me?”

He held her gaze, asking quietly, “Are you sure?”

She smiled somewhat shyly at him but reached for his hand and said firmly, “Yes. Yes, I am.”

He nodded, his eyes still locked on hers. After a moment he managed to look at Justin and asked what would be involved, determined to do whatever was asked of him. Justin assured him that he’d show him how to take over her mobility exercises, and would supervise a couple of sessions until both he and Jennifer were comfortable managing on their own. They finished discussing the details and made plans to get started the next day.

_*****_

After Justin had gone, Jonathan took Jennifer upstairs so she could get her things put away and organized, and they had some time to talk alone. Once he had set her down in her new chair, he leaned on the chair’s arms and gazed lovingly at her.

“Darling, thank you for including me in your therapy.”

She looked at him with an embarrassed smile and said, “I’m glad you’re interested…”

“Of course I am, my love. In case I haven’t shown it enough lately, you are, and have always been, my main priority in life. I’m sorry I didn’t deal well with your need to work on your own before.”

“I was too self-centered, and too unsure of how you’d deal with, with the details of my condition…I still am, to some degree, by the way, so let me say in advance that I’m…”

But he shook his head and put a finger gently to her lips, saying, “Jennifer, no more apologies. We’re in this together now, and I’ll follow your lead. Just ask, and whatever it is, I’ll do it. Please don’t be embarrassed or ashamed about anything. There’s no need for that - not with me. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said softly, knowing and trusting his words and his heart beyond a doubt. She returned his gaze for several moments, seeing all the confirmation she needed in his eyes. She reluctantly broke contact and turned in her new chair to pick up some clothes that were on the bed, asking, “How was everything at the office?”

A shadow crossed his face. “Well, I barely managed to keep everything the same as usual, since Deanne returned this morning unannounced. I sent her home again, and asked Gina to stay a while longer. I suspect that Deanne’s family emergency was a hoax, planned to get rid of her - did I tell you that she got back east only to find out that there was no emergency?”

“I don’t think you did mention that, actually. What could be achieved by getting Deanne out of the office?”

“All I can think of is that she manages things too well, knows too much about what goes on – perhaps it was a way of gaining some control in the office. Guess who stepped up to find a replacement and otherwise manage things in Deanne’s absence?”

Jennifer just paused in what she was doing to look at her husband. “Let me guess,” she said dryly. “I haven’t even met this woman, yet I’ve already developed a rather intense dislike of her.”

“Well, just wait ‘til you hear the rest,” he said, and filled her in on the conversation he’d had with Cammi. 

“Do you really intend to go to dinner with her?”

“Only if absolutely necessary, Darling,” he said, pausing to watch her reaction with a smile, then went on, “Actually, what I intend is that the whole thing will be over and done with by then, whatever it is. This could simply be some personal interest. I just don’t know. I have a sneaking suspicion it’s bigger than that.”

‘Well, if I know anything, it’s that you’ll get to the bottom of it - ”

“We, Darling. I’m sure I’ll need your help before it’s over.”

“All right then, we’ll get to the bottom of it.” She smiled and held her hands out to him. He went to her and took them, bringing them to his lips, then leaning down to find her lips next. She returned his kiss, finding strength in having intimate contact with him again, and wondering anew at the folly of denying herself the pleasure, and the necessity, as long as she had.

With a look of regret Jonathan broke the kiss, then crossed the room to the phone as he said, “Let’s enlist some help again, shall we?” He picked up the phone and again dialed the already very familiar number.

“Bill - it’s Jonathan again. I’m sorry to ask this, but can you do us another favor? I need a background check on someone, and I’d prefer not to go through Hart Industries’ sources this time.”

“Of course, Valentine, you’ve got it. However, I’m gonna have to come up with some sort of payment in return this time. How about dinner with my favorite redhead?”

Jonathan smiled and, with a glance at his wife, said, “Well, I think that can be arranged, although I may have to send a chaperone, knowing you as well as I do.”

“Valentine, you cut me to the quick. You know you can trust me!”

“Uhuh. That’s what you said back when – but never mind about that now. I do appreciate your coming through for us again, Bill.” He ignored Jennifer’s enquiring look with a grin, certain she’d ferret it out for herself anyway, when she next got Bill alone.

“Jonathan, it’s no problem at all. Gives me something important to do in my retirement. Who’d you have in mind?”

“My newest executive, Cammi Nysedi.”

Bill whistled softly. “Really? Didn’t you do a check before hiring her?”

“Well, yes, our human resources office checked her out - she had impeccable references and I was too preoccupied at the time to do anything further,” he admitted.

“Of course you were. I’ll get right on it, Jonathan, discreetly.”

“Thanks, Bill. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome - you just take good care of Beautiful for me until I can get down there for our date, and leave the rest to me.”

Jonathan couldn’t help chuckling as he assured his friend he’d do just that, and hung up the phone, knowing that involving Bill had been a wise move. A fresh pair of eyes on everything was helpful, and they both trusted Bill implicitly.


	9. Chapter 9

Helpless Hart – Part Nine

_Every time I look at you, the world just melts away_ _  
_ _All my troubles, all my fears, dissolve in your affections_ _  
_ _You see me at my weakest, but you take me as I am_ _  
_ _And when I fall you offer me a softer place to land_ _  
  
_ _You stay the course, you hold the line, you keep it all together_ _  
_ _You're the one true thing I know I can believe in_ _  
_ _You're all the things that I desire, you save me, you complete me_ _  
_ _You're the one true thing I know I can believe_ __  
  
_\- Sarah McLachlan, “Push”_

_*****_

Bill stopped his rental car at the front gate of the Hart estate a couple of days later and pushed the call button. When Jonathan had called and asked him to check out his newest executive, he wouldn’t have predicted that the discovery would lead him to deliver the information in person. Then again, any excuse to visit his friends – and collect on his date with Jennifer, he thought with a smile – was a welcome one.

Melissa answered the buzzer and, after checking with Mrs. Hart, opened the gate for him. When he got to the door, he was pleased to see Jennifer on the other side, and leaned down to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“You must be doing well, Jennifer, you’ve never looked more beautiful.”

“You say that every time, Bill,” she replied with mock exasperation.

“And I mean it every time,” he said firmly.

She just smiled at the compliment and welcomed him in, leading him to the living room where she drew her chair up next to the couch. As he sat down, he took her hands and said, “When I conned Jonathan into letting me take you to dinner, I decided I’d better collect on that deal ASAP, lest he forget. You know how he gets.”

She laughed and said, “So that was the deal – I wondered. Well you’d better watch out in case he reneges.”

“He wouldn’t dare - a deal’s a deal. But,” he said grudgingly, “I suppose he can come too. He said he’d send a chaperone anyway - it might as well be him. He knows me too well, I’m afraid - but don’t tell him I said so.” He grinned at her as she laughed again, and they passed some time catching up until Jonathan arrived home after spending a few hours in the office, where things had basically remained in a holding pattern since his triage maneuvers with Gina and Deanne.

After a warm greeting for his friend, Jonathan asked, “So, Bill – what was so important that it brought you down here unannounced? Do you have some information for us?”

Bill’s look turned sober. “I do indeed, and I thought it best not to discuss it over the phone.”

Jonathan had leaned down to kiss his wife, then gone to the bar to pour drinks for himself and Bill, asking Jennifer what she’d like. She just shook her head, and so he took a seat on the couch across from Bill, handing him his drink and reaching for Jennifer’s hand. She smiled at him, then turned to face Bill, who’d been watching them closely, happy to note that they seemed normal, completely at ease with each other. He was very pleased, and relieved, to see it.

“So, let’s hear it,” Jonathan said.

“Which part do you want first - the bad news, or the really bad news?”

Exchanging glances with his wife, Jonathan said, “That’s not much of a choice, Bill. Just give it to us.”

“Okay. Bad news first. We tracked down the company that made the device responsible for crashing your plane. It could only have come from one place.”

“Which is?”

“Kensington International, Incorporated, formerly Kensington Technologies of Rhode Island.”

“Rhode Island?”

“Yes, until it was bought out a few years back and transformed into Kensington International. A small player before, they’ve received a rather huge infusion of funds and now conduct research on a variety of cutting edge technologies and applications for that technology. But never mind the ins and outs of it – there’s only one really relevant fact here.”

“What’s that?” Jennifer asked this time.

“The name of the company that bought out Kensington: none other than Dominion Enterprises.” Bill took a sip of his drink, looking steadily at Jonathan now. “I believe you’re familiar with them.”

“Yes, yes, we are. We waged a pretty stiff battle with Sydney Cambridge to acquire Galaxy,” Jonathan replied, as Bill nodded.

“He was a rather sore loser, if I recall,” Jennifer said.

“Yes, Darling, he was.” Jonathan went on to explain the harassing phone calls to Bill. “But that was so long ago now, and we haven’t heard anything more from Cambridge.”

“Ahh, but you have,” Bill contradicted him.

“What do you mean?” Jonathan said, an edge coming to his voice. He knew he wasn’t going to like what Bill said next.

“Well, in addition to this nasty little item,” he said, holding up the device, “It seems, my friend, that you have an infiltrator in your midst at Hart Industries.”

Jonathan and Jennifer just looked at each other as the implications of Bill’s news registered, and the pieces of the puzzle fell into place at last. They both knew the answer to the next question.

“Cammi Nysedi,” Jonathan concluded, looking back at Bill now, his voice taking on a dangerous tone.

Bill just nodded, and explained what the background check had turned up. She was, indeed, a very capable business woman, and all of the references she’d provided had been real. It was as he’d dug deeper into her background that he’d discovered the cleverly disguised alliance between Cammi Nysedi and Sydney Cambridge.

Jonathan had had a hunch that there was more to that woman than met the eye, but he certainly hadn’t reached the conclusions they were now faced with. It was clear, whether she was involved in the plane crash itself or not - and he suspected that her hands wouldn’t be completely clean on that score, when all was said and done – that she was involved in something, some kind of plot for revenge against Hart Industries, perhaps. And, if his suspicions were correct, in a more personal bit of revenge, as well. 

Jonathan glanced now between Jennifer and Bill now as a sobering thought came suddenly to his mind.

“What is it, Darling?” Jennifer asked, seeing his expression change as he silently berated himself for his incomplete attention to Hart Industries matters of late.

“I need to take a closer look at the Sans Corporation merger – the one Cammi’s been working on. She’s been pushing very hard for that particular deal, much to the annoyance of some of my other executives. If you’re right about her connections to Sydney Cambridge, it could end up being a very costly transaction for Hart Industries. I hate to admit it but I’ve barely skimmed over the paperwork. She appears to have been very thorough, but I’m afraid I haven’t been paying much attention. I must be slipping…”

“Nonsense, Jonathan – you’ve been rightly preoccupied with other matters,” Bill said firmly.

“Well, we owe you one, Bill – again,” he said with a grim smile, as he got up and went to the foyer. He returned with his briefcase, from which he pulled the Sans Corporation paperwork, suddenly more intent on reviewing it that he had been previously. As he glanced through it, he handed sheets to Bill and Jennifer, saying, “I’m betting there’s nothing wrong with any of her work, on the surface.” He paused, thinking, then said, “I think I’m going to have to get into her office, and probably her apartment as well, to find out what’s really going on. If her ties to Cambridge are as strong as you’ve indicated, I’m sure I won’t like what I find. The key is finding it before the merger actually goes through, which it’s very close to doing.”

“Well, I can make the link from Cambridge to this device, Jonathan – or, at least, to his company. The link from him to Ms. Nysedi isn’t as clear-cut, but it too can be made. If you can find evidence connecting her to the plane crash directly, or connecting the use of this device directly to Cambridge, or something damning about the business deal, well, it’d be nice to put them both away for a long, long while.” He looked satisfied at the thought, a sentiment that Jonathan and Jennifer shared wholeheartedly.

Jonathan went on, “I’m sure we can leave at least part of this to the police. Let’s call Herschel - he’ll need to know about it anyway, and he’s sure to have connections with people in the proper jurisdictions. And let’s figure out how to deal with Ms. Nysedi.” He got no argument from them, and they set about discussing what to do.

_*****_

Once they’d reached some tentative plans with Bill and Captain Herschel Grey for the next day, Jonathan and Jennifer at last turned in for the night. Jennifer was deep in thought as she wheeled herself from the dressing room to the bedroom, ready for bed clad in deep blue silk pajamas.

“Jonathan…”

He answered her as he came from the bathroom on his side. “Yeah, Darling, what is it?”

She looked up at him and said, “I want to meet this woman.”

Aware as he was that Jennifer had been reluctant to venture out since the accident, he didn’t respond right away.

Seeing his raised eyebrows, she repeated, “I want to meet her – tomorrow night.”

“Darling, that’s not really necessary…”

“I know, but I can’t go with you to check out her office or her apartment…” he could tell she didn’t care for that fact, “…And I’d prefer not to just sit at home while you go. We know where she intends to be tomorrow night. I’m proposing that I keep her occupied while you and Herschel go toss her apartment. Besides,” she went on smoothly, “I think she ought to meet me, as well, don’t you agree?”

He could see the glint in her eyes and smiled, pleased that her tenacity and spirit were showing and, as he so often did, feeling proud of her. “Well now, I admit that could be very interesting,” he responded, considering the possibilities.

“Yes, it could. Let me handle her, Darling. I think it could be fun.”

“Fun?” 

“Yes – fun,” she reiterated, the glint in her eye turning mischievous, and, convinced that dinner with Cammi would be very satisfying, indeed, Jonathan felt sorry he’d most likely miss a good deal of it.

Since Bill had arrived so unexpectedly, they’d been unable go through Jennifer’s therapy exercises at their usual time. Seeing that she was ready, he resisted the impulse to go and help her from her chair, instead going to the foot of the bed and kneeling there, waiting as she maneuvered herself into place.

“You are incredible, you know that?”

“What?” she said with a small laugh, looking at him with a slight blush in her cheeks.

“You are, and I love and admire you, so very much,” he said as he picked up her foot, massaging it before getting on with the exercises. She watched him, a mix of emotions running through her. That she couldn’t feel his gentle massage made her heart ache, but more than that, she loved the fact that he did it anyway.

Jonathan saw the play of emotions and understood. He couldn’t help enjoying the physical contact, but it grieved his heart, too, that she couldn’t share in the sensation. He wished…but he turned his thoughts resolutely back to his task, determined to concentrate on the therapy routine.

A moment later he looked up at her again, and as their eyes met Jennifer said, “I love you too, you know.” He paused, smiling at her, then set her foot down and moved forward until he was holding himself above her. 

With a twinkle in his eye, he said, “I know,” and lowered his head until his lips touched hers, intending to give her a light kiss and then get back to the business at hand. But, following a completely natural impulse, she spontaneously took advantage of the moment, winding her arms around his neck, her fingers playing lightly with his hair as she deepened the kiss until they were both left a bit breathless. 

Their eyes opened as the kiss ended, and a torrent of emotion passed between them. In the span of those few seconds, Jennifer discovered that her former uncertainty was gone, replaced instead with a resolve that together they could overcome whatever barriers there were, real or not, to the intimacy they had always enjoyed. Emotionally, their relationship had been restored to its usual closeness, as if the short interlude of disconnect between them had never happened. But Jennifer knew that some of the reasons behind that disconnect were still present. She’d readily given up the embarrassment and fear that had led to a misguided need to be independent - so completely independent that she’d cut herself off from any assistance from him. He had never let her down before, and she knew he would not do so now. 

What still remained was the inescapable fact of the impediments to resuming their formerly active, physical intimacy – and she missed that component of her love affair with her husband quite desperately. But until this moment, she hadn’t quite let go of her trepidation, her uncertainty that any of those obstacles could be overcome, or how to overcome them. But now, instead of focusing on the limits and regretting what wasn’t possible, she decided to explore whatever level of intimacy they _could_ share and to nurture it, wanting it as much for his sake as for her own.

Jonathan, meanwhile, could see what was going through her mind as clearly as if the thoughts had been his own. He watched as her trepidation, so clearly present before, evaporated, replaced by a more resolute and confident look. 

“Jennifer,” he said softly. She was prepared to see the desire in his eyes, but not for the uncertainty and regret, as he tried to push himself up and away from her. 

“Jonathan,” she responded, calmly pulling him back down to her, until her lips brushed his once more and she could feel the pleasant weight of him on the upper half of her body.

He returned her kiss, but she could tell that something was off. Regret and pain at feeling he had to stop was plain in his face when the kiss ended. This time when he moved away, onto his side next to her, she didn’t stop him but simply worked to turn toward him until she was lying on her side as well, and she could look into his eyes. 

Seeing that his expression was still troubled and filled with doubt, she reached out to caress his arm. “Darling, it’s okay – really.”

“Jennifer, I, I don’t know – maybe we should wait - ”

Her whispered reply was soft, her words heartfelt. “Jonathan, wait for what? Why wait until the end of the eight weeks, if the outcome could be the same? I mean, I’m not saying – ” A little flustered now, she glanced away from him for a moment, trying to formulate her thoughts and feelings into words, and started over. “I know there may be some limitations right now, but…”

“Darling, if you can’t share in this equally, if you can’t, feel what I feel - ”

It was his turn to be flustered now, and she could clearly see the anguish shining in his eyes, could hear it in his voice. “Okay, Darling, okay. Shhh.” She reached out to caress his face, looking at him with empathy and understanding. Then with a sudden inspiration she took his hand in hers and went on softly.

“Jonathan, there may be limits to what part of my body can feel right now, but I can still feel your touch here….” She brought his hand to her cheek then kissed his fingertips, and a thrill went through him at the sound and feel of her whispered words. “And here….” Still holding his hand, she leaned in to give him a lingering kiss.

“And here,” she said again, taking his hand and placing it over her heart. Although she appeared calm, her gaze steady, he could feel the racing of her heart beneath his palm. 

“And also here,” she whispered once more, her eyes locked on his as she again moved his hand, this time bringing it to her breast and covering it with her own. His glance flickered to their hands, lying entwined against the blue of her pajamas, then back to her face where her beautiful eyes were still focused intently on him. They were filled with love and vulnerability, and also a hint of entreaty. The sight of them brought a sting to his own eyes as her whispered words stirred his heart, making it ache with a longing that he knew matched hers.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, feeling he had to ask, although he could already see her answer in her eyes.

Nodding, she said, “Yes, I’m sure. There are so many ways we can…” she paused, a slight blush coming to her cheeks, enhancing her beauty and charming him as she continued, “Well, how about we just take things slowly, and figure it out as we go…all right?”

Jennifer had watched his expression change as she spoke, relieved to see the last vestiges of uncertainty melt away. Now she saw a flicker of playful interest cross his handsome features, mixing with his love and desire for her. She took a deep breath as he caressed her through the silky softness of her pajamas, then slid his hand around to her back to pull her close, until his forehead could rest against hers.

“All right,” he said in that low, husky whisper that always sent a thrill up her spine. She smiled as he trailed light kisses down past her ear to her neck. Her hand rested on his arm then moved to caress his back. When he paused, smiling at her, she looked lovingly back at him and reached over to brush the hair that had fallen in his eyes back into place. She repeated the gesture, loving the feel of his hair in her fingers. He closed his eyes at her gentle touch, and when he opened them again he found hers, wide and luminous, locked on his once more, making his heart skip a beat. With a smile, she whispered his name again as her mouth sought his for another tender yet electrifying kiss. Her therapy, for the time-being at least, was completely forgotten.

_*****_

Cammi Nysedi strode confidently into the restaurant, approving of the choice Jonathan had made for their rendezvous. It was clearly a high class establishment, well up to her standards. The tables were largely occupied, but not crowded, the lighting intimate. Yes, it would certainly do very nicely. She looked around for him eagerly, but he wasn’t in view anywhere. The maitre d’ politely asked for her name.

“The reservation is under the name Jonathan Hart.”

“Of course, Madame. This way please.”

Irritated with the man’s presumption – _Did she look that old?_ \- Cammi stifled her reaction and strove to change her expression as she got nearer to her prize. Her expectations soared as she followed the man winding his way through the tables. She was pleased that Jonathan had apparently thought to request a secluded table in the back. _All the better_ , she thought, unable to rein in her anticipation, a seductive and slightly triumphant smile coming to her face as they approached a softly lit booth. But her smile faded as it became clear that it wasn’t Jonathan at the table, and she rounded on the maitre d’.

“This isn’t the right - ”

“Ah, but it is, Madame – the table of Mr. Jonathan Hart, you said, no?” She just looked at him, dumbfounded, as he nodded to the table’s lone occupant and said, “Your guest, Madame Hart, s’il vous plait.”

“Ah, yes, Henri. Thank you.”

The man nodded and left to make his way back to his post. Jennifer turned to Ms. Cammi Nysedi, taking just a moment to look her over before indicating that she should sit down. Still not certain what was going on, Cammi found herself obeying, sliding onto the seat opposite an auburn-haired woman who watched her with steady, unflinching eyes. “Ms. Nysedi, I presume. Jennifer Hart.”

Trying to compose herself, to shake off her shock and annoyance at this most unwelcome surprise, she reached out to take the hand being proffered to her across the table. _Pull it together, Cammi,_ she admonished herself silently, wondering how she should deal with this unexpected turn of events. _What exactly was going on?_

“Ah – looking for the chair?” Jennifer asked shrewdly, catching the other woman’s surreptitiously searching eyes. She inclined her head slightly and Cammi’s eyes followed; she saw the wheelchair, folded up and tucked neatly in a corner nearby. Cammi looked back at her, realizing that she’d continued speaking.

“ – get out of it whenever possible – but I’m sure you understand, because of your fiancé.”

The waiter appeared at that moment, and Jennifer ordered a Perrier while Cammi got a scotch on the rocks. Jennifer was pleased at having caught her supposed rival off-guard from the first, while wondering how long it would last. But Jennifer could employ a poker face to equal her husband’s when the situation called for it, and now was clearly such a time. 

“Whatever happened to him, by the way?” Jennifer went on once the waiter had left. “I don’t believe my husband ever mentioned that part.”

“What?”

“Your fiancé, the one in the wheelchair…?” Jennifer prompted her.

Belatedly recalling the fabrication of her supposed fiancé and ticked at herself for not being prepared for that question, Cammi just said, “Oh – well, it, uh, didn’t work out. I’d rather not talk about it.”

“What a shame.” Jennifer’s voice trailed off as she glanced away for a moment then back at her guest. She watched the blonde woman closely, almost enjoying her discomfiture. It was unexpected, in a business woman of Ms. Nysedi’s supposed acumen. Silence fell as she let her comment hang in the air between them for several seconds before speaking again. 

Cammi, meanwhile, had likewise been trying to take the measure of the woman sitting across from her and finding it unexpectedly difficult. She had to admit that Jonathan’s wife was a beautiful woman, and quite poised and composed under the circumstances. If Cammi weren’t so intent on her prize, she’d have had to admit that they’d make a handsome pair. As it was, the thought irritated her. But she had a lot of confidence in herself and in her appeal to the opposite sex. Wife or not, and no matter how beautiful she was, Cammi knew that a paraplegic woman was no match for her. But her thoughts were interrupted as her rival spoke again, and she gained even more confidence when it appeared that Jonathan’s wife had no idea what his intentions had been for that evening, after all.

“Jonathan had an urgent matter to attend to this evening, and when I realized that he’d made plans for dinner with you, I decided that you shouldn’t be left hanging without an explanation. I do apologize for not meeting you sooner. I don’t usually delay getting acquainted with my husband’s new employees, particularly his new executives. But, as I’m sure you know, things have been, well, difficult lately.”

Cammi had to grudgingly give her some credit for showing up like this. Clueless or not, she definitely would not have expected it. Usually, she never knew or even met the wives of her lovers, when they existed. She had very little respect for them as a general rule, pegging them as lazy, or complacent or otherwise unequal to their powerful husbands, trophy wives worthy only of contempt and disdain. She wondered idly if Jonathan knew where his wife was tonight…. _How sloppy of him,_ she thought, to have allowed her to find out about their dinner plans. But whether she suspected the truth or not didn’t really concern Cammi; no man had yet been able to resist what she had to offer. 

She held in a sigh of impatience. She had no desire to play nice with the competition, such as it was, and it annoyed her that her plans for Jonathan would be delayed just as she’d thought she was finally getting somewhere. She tried not to grit her teeth as she replied, trying to extricate herself from the situation.

“Well, Mrs. Hart - ”

“Please, call me Jennifer.”

Ignoring that nicety, she barely managed not to spit out, “Okay, then, well, I appreciate your coming to let me know, but I’m afraid I, too, have another appointment to keep. I’ll catch up with Mr. Hart in the office tomorrow - ” She started to rise, still trying to mask her irritation. But her thoughts were interrupted as Jonathan’s wife spoke again, and despite her outwardly friendly demeanor, Cammi thought she heard an edge in her voice, a challenge of sorts. She stared long and hard at her as that new quality in the handicapped woman’s manner brought her up short.

“Oh, I don’t think you will – but that doesn’t matter right now. Before you go, Cammi – it _is_ Cammi, isn’t it?” The way she said it implied that it was really of no consequence to her whatsoever what her first name was, and Cammi fumed over the perceived insult as the she went on, “– Anyway, aren’t you at all curious as to the real reason I’m here? I assure you, it’s really much more, well…interesting than you might guess.”

There was something in her tone again, and a knowing look in her eye that exuded confidence. Cammi had to admit that Jennifer Hart was different from what she’d expected – she had a certain presence that, in Cammi’s experience, wasn’t usually found in trophy wives. That Mrs. Hart seemed implicitly, inexplicably confident was annoying to her, and Cammi itched to set her straight on certain matters.

Sitting back down, she said, “Since you put it that way, yes. I am curious.”

Jennifer barely glanced at the waiter as he returned with their drinks, and when asked if they were ready to order, she answered in flawless French that they would need a few more minutes. Another surprise.

“Très bien, Madame Hart.” He smiled at her as he took his leave, glad to escape the tension he could feel emanating from the table, and the blonde woman in particular.

“You seem to know everyone here.”

“We come here often,” Jennifer responded simply. She watched Cammi closely, taking a sip of her Perrier. She noted that a look of impatience had appeared on the blonde’s face, so she set her drink aside and leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table between them.

“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” Jennifer said. Surely Jonathan and Herschel had had enough time by now to search the apartment and be on their way to the restaurant.

“Yes, why don’t we?” Cammi snapped, tired of how this strange conversation had been going and deciding that it was time to explain how things really were. “Let’s start with the fact that your husband doesn’t appear to be getting what he needs at home, so he’s finally seen the light and is looking elsewhere to meet those needs.”

Amused at Cammi’s loss of cool and control, it was all Jennifer could do not to choke on her Perrier. But she managed to hold in her reaction, instead simply arching her eyebrow, her expression conveying her confident contradiction of such a claim.

Meanwhile, Bill sat at a nearby table, watching surreptitiously, prepared to intervene and/or follow the woman if she got up to leave. He was pleased when she sat back down, since he was finding the whole conversation rather entertaining. He studiously kept his gaze away from Jennifer’s, not wanting to break her focus by inadvertently catching her eye. He’d always known Jennifer could handle herself well, and with class and style, too. For all of her practiced glamour and supposed allure, Cammi had never stood a chance against her. Not for Jonathan’s affections, certainly, and for precious little else, as well.

The blonde woman’s satisfaction at imparting such news had been as clear as her surprise was now, at the reaction it spurred. That her adversary – she realized now that’s what Jennifer Hart truly was – raised that damn eyebrow and calmly took another sip of her drink before responding only infuriated Cammi further. Nobody mocked her - ever. But nothing could have prepared Cammi for what Jennifer actually said next, as completely unrelated as it seemed to be.

“Well, you can ask my husband about that yourself. He’ll be here as soon as he and the police are finished searching your apartment.” Jennifer just looked at Cammi now across the table, that one delicate eyebrow arching upward again as a look of steel replaced her earlier amusement. She was pleased to observe a brief look of panic crossing Cammi’s face before she was able to school her features again.

“What?”

“I think you heard me,” Jennifer said, coolly taking another sip of Perrier.

“He has no right - ”

“Oh, but he does,” she contradicted her. “It’s called a warrant, for which the police agreed there was plenty of cause after we presented them with the evidence found in your office.” She paused, then said almost as an afterthought, “Well, that, and what we learned about you and Sydney Cambridge.”

“Sydney who?”

“Oh, come on now, Cammi, we know all about your connection to Cambridge, so there’s no point in denying it,” Jennifer said, her own patience beginning to wear thin now.

“What…?” Cammi didn’t like the feeling of not being in control, and honestly, it appeared that she hadn’t been, not for one moment since sitting down at this table. She suddenly felt as if she was drowning. It was an unfamiliar sensation.

Her battles, intellectual and otherwise, were usually with men. She’d never for a moment imagined she’d have occasion to do battle with, as she saw it, the poor little handicapped wife with adjustment issues. This was to have been an easy conquest of a man desperate for female attention, who all the while would have no idea he was simultaneously being railroaded into financial ruin and bankruptcy. How could she – and Sydney - have miscalculated so badly?

From his vantage point nearby, Bill had begun openly watching and listening to the conversation at Jennifer’s table, and, seeing their quarry beginning to fidget, he decided to make his move to join the discussion. He finally caught Jennifer’s eye, and he could tell she agreed, although she made no outward sign of it. Approaching their table, he took her hand and greeted her warmly then slid smoothly into the booth next to Cammi, neatly cutting off her escape route, and making her regret not leaving when she’d had the chance.

“Sloppy, Cammi, sloppy. What will Sydney say when the police pick him up, oh,” he stopped to consult his watch “…Any time now?” Bill said with mock concern.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, not even bothering to ask him who the hell he thought he was.

Jennifer looked up now to see Jonathan and Herschel approaching. Herschel slid quietly into the neighboring booth behind Cammi, while Jonathan continued past him to their increasingly crowded table. As he took in the group at the table, his gaze seemed to slide right past Cammi. Although he noted with satisfaction her mixed expression of anger, shock and even a little panic, he gave no outward sign of having seen her at all. Instead, his eyes came to rest on his wife’s face and lingered there.

“Hello, Darling,” he said, smiling at her as he sat down on the seat next to her. “Enjoying your dinner?” he asked, his attention focused on her with a clearly heart-stopping gaze, much to Cammi’s amazement and disgust.

“Well, we haven’t ordered yet,” she said, turning to meet his gaze with a lingering look of her own, her expression transforming unmistakably. Her eyes closed and her hand went to his arm in an intimate gesture as she accepted a kiss from him with a smile. Then her eyes flicked briefly to Cammi before returning to his, and they sparkled in amusement as she said, “We’ve been having a most interesting talk, Darling – Cammi here was just telling me how your, ah, needs, aren’t being met at home.”

It was Jonathan’s turn to glance at Cammi before turning back to his wife with an amused look. As he gazed at her, his smile broadened, and when he spoke it was as if she was the only one there. “Well, now, Darling, I’d say she doesn’t have a clue what she’s talking about. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I would - I’m so glad you feel that way, Darling.”

“Okay, you two, can we get back to the real issue here?” Bill asked as he jabbed a finger on the table in mock annoyance, but his eyes were filled with amusement and satisfaction. Any chance to see them back to their usual ways heartened him greatly.

They shared yet another intimate, private exchange before looking across the table to Bill and Cammi again, noting their distinctly different expressions. Jennifer schooled her own somewhat and, with an intent look at the blonde sitting across from her, said, “Actually, I believe Cammi was just about to explain her involvement with Sydney Cambridge, weren’t you, Cammi?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cammi stated flatly.

“Perhaps you’d prefer to explain what you know about this instead,” Bill said, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the device he’d had analyzed. He was pleased to see Cammi’s face blanche a little, confirming her involvement in the plane crash for all of them. Jennifer immediately felt ire building inside of her, thinking back to those tense moments in the plane and everything that had happened since then. This woman - and her partner, Jennifer reminded herself - had nearly cost them their lives. They had, however indirectly, put her in that chair in the corner, and on top of that, had not only targeted her husband and Hart Industries, but her marriage as well.

Jennifer pulled her eyes from their enemy with some effort, turning back to her husband to ask, “So, how did everything go with Herschel?”

“Quite well. We got everything we needed,” he replied, his own icy stare still on his former executive. “What we found, combined with the evidence from the plane and from Bill’s investigation, gave us everything we need to put Cambridge and Ms. Nysedi, here, away for a very long time.”

“You can’t be serious - ” Cammi said, her eyes flashing with anger, and a clearly more heightened level of panic.

Jonathan’s eyes turned icier still as he regarded her. “Is that so? Believe me, it hardly matters what you think, given what we found in your apartment. And, actually, I don’t give a damn what you have to say.”

Captain Herschel Grey took that as a sign, and rose to join the group, pulling out his badge as he did so and identifying himself. Then, like the others, he greeted Jennifer warmly and Cammi, defeated, just rolled her eyes.

“Do you know everyone?” she muttered angrily to Jennifer.

None of them bothered to respond, and Herschel moved to arrest Cammi as Bill stood up to give him room. He sat back down as Herschel took her away.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys but I’m starving,” he said, picking up a menu. “Jonathan, you missed a fascinating show here tonight.”

“I’m sure of it,” he answered, looking at Jennifer with another smile as he, too, picked up a menu. Looking at his friend, he asked, “So, does this count as your date with my wife?”

“I suppose, but only because I decided to let you come along, seeing as you were gonna insist on a chaperone anyway. Really, Valentine, you know you can trust me.”

“Well…” Jonathan began, but Jennifer, who just watched this exchange with amusement, interrupted to say, “Come on now, you two - ” 

Jonathan and Bill exchanged innocent, _‘Who, me?’_ looks across the table, and Jennifer rolled her eyes in exasperation, but she couldn’t help smiling. Jonathan turned toward her again, one arm on the table as he leaned in close, smiling as he looked deeply into her eyes.

“I’ll want a full report of your encounter, you know. I’m sorry to have missed it.”

“Oh, Jonathan, there wasn’t that much to it. I simply, reasoned with her.”

“Mhmm. I’ll bet.”

“I told you it’d be fun, and it certainly was,” she replied with satisfaction.

“She was brilliant – you’d have been proud of her,” Bill piped up, although he could tell they were hardly even registering his presence.

“Oh, I know. I always am.”

As he leaned in to give her a long, soft kiss, her eyes closed, her hand going to his face.

“Hey, I thought I was the one on this date,” Bill said petulantly. But he was grinning as they broke the kiss and glanced at him, also smiling. Bill went on, a wounded look coming to his face. “Valentine, I do believe you’re reneging.”

At that, Jennifer just laughed and Jonathan looked at him, saying, “I guess I am, now that you mention it. You know, Bill, I think it’s time you found a woman of your own.”

“Come on, Beautiful, are you gonna let him get away with that?”

“I’m sorry, Bill, but you know how he is when he sets his mind on something.”

Bill just grumbled, “Well, you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

In an attempt to mollify him, Jennifer leaned toward him, reaching across the table for his hand. “Bill, you know we love you, and we can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done to help us in this.”

He held her hand tightly and reached for Jonathan’s as well, replying seriously, “Anything for you both, always.”

“Likewise, Bill – you know that,” Jonathan said as Jennifer nodded in complete agreement. They sat quietly for a moment, reflecting on all that had happened and feeling relieved that this chapter, at least, was closed. Then the waiter arrived and they put all thoughts of Cammi, Cambridge, plots and devices, out of their minds and carried on with their evening.


	10. Chapter 10

Helpless Hart – Part Ten

_The world will turn_ _  
_ _And the seasons will change_ _  
_ _And all the lessons we will learn_ _  
_ _Will be beautiful and strange_ _  
_ _We'll have our fill of tears_ _  
_ _Our share of sighs_ _  
_ _And my only prayer_ _  
_ _Is that you realize_ _  
_ _You'll always be beautiful in my eyes_ __  
  


_\- Joshua Kadison, “Beautiful in My Eyes”_

_*****_

Nearly a week later things were starting to get back to normal in the Hart household. The Harts and Bill had made their statements to the police and left Herschel to finish things up. Bill had at last made his way home, but only after eliciting a promise from Jonathan and Jennifer that they’d visit him and Peter soon in Seattle. Jonathan had decided to take one more day at home with Jennifer before returning to the office, where he knew there was plenty to be done. Things were as well in hand as they could be, all things considered, although he was going to have to decide what to do about his once again vacant executive position. But that could wait a while longer, he thought with a smile, as he drank in the lovely view of his wife as she slept, the early morning light casting a soft, warm glow on her features.

This morning was the first that they’d had to relax, to sleep in, and Jonathan was taking full advantage of it, enjoying the peace that had come back to them even if it was still tinged with heartache. But, he reflected, even that seemed to be passing into acceptance, as he had to admit to himself that the chances that Jennifer would regain the use of her legs were growing slimmer by the day. Time wasn’t up yet, but he was finding it harder and harder not to face the growing likelihood that her condition was permanent. At the same time, he also had to acknowledge that his wife appeared to be dealing with it much better that he had so far – and that, truthfully, she had all along. And, ever since her encounter with Cammi at the restaurant, her spirits had improved, and she was getting out more rather than remaining holed up in the house. She continued to work with Justin on a variety of skills that she was using and applying on her own. He was perhaps most heartened to know that she had talked to Marcia about the possibility of doing some research for a few projects, and had taken up her own writing again. He was relieved at this development, knowing what an important outlet Jennifer’s work had always been for her. 

He kept watching, smiling now as she stirred, her closed hand resting near her head then reaching up as she stretched lightly.

“You’re doing it again,” she murmured.

“Mhmm,” he agreed, smiling as he leaned down close to her, meeting her gaze as she sleepily opened her eyes and returned his smile.

“How are you this morning?”

“Fine and dandy,” she said as she yawned, her eyes closing again as she snuggled more deeply into the comforting warmth of the blankets, happy that they didn’t have any reason to face the world just yet. She wound her arms around his neck and hugged him, turning until she was on her side and they could relax into a peaceful, drowsy sleep.

Jonathan could easily have drifted right back to sleep with her, and was well on his way when he heard and felt her light laughter against his neck.

“Jonathan, stop that,” she whispered sleepily.

“Stop what, Darling?” he said softly, drowsy himself, with no idea what she could be talking about.

Through another small laugh, she said, “Jonathan, you know how ticklish my f-” she faltered suddenly, her eyes opening and catching his as she finished her thought, “…feet are, sometimes, in the morning….” She gasped then, and he realized that he’d been playing footsies with her, unconscious of such a natural habit – one he’d picked up again when she’d returned to their bed. He realized that he was holding his breath, unable to speak, but finally he found his voice.

“Jennifer?” he whispered as he looked intently into her eyes, afraid it would be a dream, not be real. 

Jennifer’s heart was pounding as she looked back at him, somehow unable to speak as all of her hopes for recovery and a return to her normal life seemed almost within her reach. She simply watched as he slowly sat up and threw the covers back, then she struggled into a sitting position as both of them stared at her legs and feet, still lying unmoving, as before. And yet, they both hoped, all was not simply as it had been these past several weeks.

Jonathan moved toward the end of the bed then, running his hands down her legs as he went. “What do you feel, Darling?” _Do you feel?_ The question ran over and over again through his mind.

“I – I don’t know,” she answered, her voice faltering.

“Okay, take a deep breath. Close your eyes,” he urged her, his hands resting now on her feet, squeezing them lightly.

She complied, then said, “It…it, tingles…I feel it!” Tears came to her eyes as she realized that she did indeed have a tingling sensation. “It’s like they’ve fallen asleep - but god, it feels wonderful!” And then she was laughing and crying at the same time. He joined her laughter, an overwhelming sense of joy and relief washing over him as he realized that the seemingly eternal wait could be finally be ending, and in a way he had been about to give up on as increasingly unlikely.

He stroked her feet and was startled to see a tiny movement as her toes responded. 

“I’m calling Dr. Shearer,” Jonathan said as he squeezed her feet again, then moved forward to kiss her before reaching for the phone.

“Jonathan - ” she started to say, her hand resting on his arm, and he paused to look at her. _Please let this be real,_ her eyes seemed to say.

“I know, Darling. I hope so too.” 

She just nodded, her eyes closing as she lay back against her pillow, listening as he called the doctor’s office and left a message. Although she tried, she couldn’t move anything, so instead she concentrated on the slight, itchy, tingly sensation that seemed to come and go, and a real sense of hope began to pervade her thoughts – a hope that she hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on for all of these weeks. Jonathan got back under the covers with her and gathered her in his arms. He, too, wanted to be optimistic, but having so recently begun to reconcile himself with the possibility that she wouldn’t walk again, he felt wary now, cautious of getting too excited. He struggled to balance hope with fear, and resolutely decided he would wait for the doctor’s evaluation. But as he took a deep breath and held her tightly, ultimately he was unable to stop the flood of hope that entered his heart.

*****

Jonathan called to his wife as he came in the door, and then spotted her at the desk in the library. She looked up and smiled as he came toward her, and she wheeled herself out from behind the desk to greet him. He leaned down and gave her a kiss.

“How was your day, Darling?” he asked.

“Good – how are things at the office?”

“Well, slow. I’m sorry I’m gone so much these days.”

“Jonathan, don’t worry about it – you need to be there now, and I have plenty to do to keep me occupied.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of her words. He’d decided to find a new executive from within the ranks at Hart Industries, feeling it was the best decision despite knowing it would take more time. He went to the bar and poured himself a drink; Jennifer just shook her head at his enquiring look. 

“Well, we do have some good candidates, I think. They just need additional experience, which I’m happy to provide them. I think Bradley, in particular, will make a good executive.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“I’d still prefer to be with you more to help with your therapy.”

“I know, Darling, but it’s all right, really.”

As he moved around the end of the bar, she held up her hands to stop him, saying, “Darling, wait right there – I have something for you.”

Raising his eyebrows with a questioning look, he said, “You do? Should we go sit on the couch?”

“No, no, just – stand right there. Don’t move. And ah, close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

“Close my eyes?” He repeated her instructions, a smile coming to his face.

“Yes! Close them. Are they closed?”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay – are you sure? No peeking, now. Hands?” She smiled as she wheeled herself away from him as she talked. She paused, then turned back, checking to see that he was following her instructions. She had been anticipating this moment all day.

“Did you go shopping?”

“Well, Melissa and I did run some errands after the therapy session with Justin. Just hold on for one more moment – almost ready.”

Jonathan had no idea where they might have gone or what she could have gotten him. She seemed excited about it and a smile came to his face. He was pleased that she had returned to her more usual self over the past few weeks, as her condition had improved. It was slow, gradual, but there seemed little doubt now that she was headed for what he hoped was a full recovery.

She’d gotten quiet and he had no idea what she was up to, but he didn’t dare peek and ruin her surprise. Finally, though, he couldn’t help but ask teasingly, “So…where is my present?”

“Right here.” Her whispered reply came from much closer than he’d expected. He felt her hands take his firmly, and then her lips were touching his in a gentle kiss. He felt his heart skip a beat as a sudden jolt of understanding washed over him. Then he was kissing her back, his eyes still resolutely closed as he allowed himself to enjoy the pure sensation of her soft lips on his. He let go of her hands and wrapped his arms around her, thrilling at the feel of her body held firmly against his again, for the first time in what seemed like eons. In that moment he was unable to recall how long it had been since they’d stood together like this, face to face, heart to heart, and he felt it was perhaps the sweetest gift he’d ever received.

Finally, he opened his eyes to find hers looking intently back at him, a small smile playing at her lips. She was clearly pleased with her surprise. Her arms had found their way around his neck; he could tell she was relying on them in part to hold herself up, so he held her more securely in his embrace. He could see the wheelchair a step or so behind her.

“Jennifer.” At a loss for words, he simply moved to hug her closely to him, his head against hers, overwhelmed. 

Jennifer closed her eyes and focused on the physical sensation of his embrace, of her body perfectly fit to his again. How she had dreamed of this, in the time since her accident - of standing face to face with him, able to look deeply into his blue eyes, wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him, eye to eye and heart to heart again, at last.

*****

Jonathan and Jennifer were sitting at the table in the kitchen one morning when Melissa came in with a package.

“Special delivery for you, Mr. Hart,” she said, holding it toward him. But he didn’t take it, instead indicating that she should give it to Jennifer.

“What’s this?” she asked with a glance at her husband, the one she gave him whenever she figured he was up to something. Of course, as usual, she was correct.

“Why don’t you open it and see for yourself?” he replied with a grin of his own, one she knew meant he was eagerly anticipating his surprise for her.

So she ripped open the end of the large envelope and pulled out what looked like plane tickets. Her eyebrows went up when she saw the name on the ticket folder. “Hart Airlines? Jonathan, did you buy an airline?”

“Well, no, not really, Darling, and only in a manner of speaking. I wanted to talk to you about it first.” He paused as she just looked at him quizzically, and prompted her, “So, what else is in there?”

“Well, let’s see…tickets for an airline that doesn’t exist, and that have no destination on them.”

Faking exasperation, he said, “Yeah, got that covered – go on, anything else?”

She riffled through the other papers until she came across one identifying the fleet of Hart Airlines – a photo of a single plane, a near duplicate of their former twin engine Beechcraft.

“Hart Airlines consists of a single plane?”

“Well, it will, if you agree. You see, Bill thought, well, he found this plane….” He paused and looked at her; seeing that she was waiting for him to go on, so he continued, but with a different thought. “Well, we didn’t get our long weekend in that isolated cabin, in fact we haven’t had a vacation in quite some time. Anyway, now that you’re recovered, I think we should get away for a few days. Maybe not to the mountains, yet, but anywhere you want to go, hence the lack of destination. You get to fill that in – beach, wine country, anywhere you wish. Name it, and I’ll take you there. That is, if you want…or, we can always take the Hart Industries jet, if you’d prefer….”

She’d figured out what he was getting at and, seeing his discomfiture, said simply, “Actually, I think this Beechcraft looks like a good investment for Hart Airlines.”

He smiled as she said it and replied, “I wasn’t sure, after our last experience, if you’d want to…”

She leaned toward him, her hand going to his cheek as she gazed into his eyes and interrupted him to say, “Jonathan, I’d fly with you anywhere. Anywhere.”

He caught her hand in his and brought it his lips, looking into her eyes as she went on, “We’re here today, Darling, because you knew what to do – you got us safely to the ground in a dangerous situation and I have no doubts whatsoever about your skill as a pilot.”

“You’re a pretty outstanding co-pilot as well, you know.”

“Well, thank you very much,” she replied, smiling at him fondly, then went on, “So, what are we waiting for?”

“Hmm?”

“I agree that a vacation is long overdue. The sooner we get the Hart Airlines fleet up and running, the better. So, let’s go see a man about a plane.”

He laughed and simply stood up, holding his hand out to her and marveling that he’d ever found so perfect a match in her. She rose and as they walked though the house and out the door together, they were already deep in discussion about where to go and what to do, eagerly anticipating their little get-away, as if it was a sign of a return to their usual life, albeit one that was at the same time transformed. 

Neither would ever forget the trials they’d gone through, and they now shared an even greater respect and appreciation for their life together – a life that was filled with happiness and love and all of the many, many things that drew them to each other. Having weathered this adventure, they knew they would always be together…and stronger than ever.


End file.
